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BENJAMIN  ROBERT  HAYDON. 


VOL.  I. 


Benjamin  Robert  Haydon, 

Prom  a  Bust  "by  Park 


Benjamin  Robert  Haydon: 


CORRESPONDENCE  AND  TABLE-TALK. 

SEttfj  a  JKemoir 

BY  HIS  SON, 

FREDERIC  WORDSWORTH  HAYDON. 

WITH  FACSIMILE  ILLUSTRATIONS  FROM  HIS  JOURNALS. 
IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 

Vol.  I. 


BOSTON: 
ESTES    AND  LAURIAT. 
1877. 


tttf  C.ETTY  CENTEP 
LIBRARY 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  I. 


FAUE 

PREFACE   vii 

PERSONAL  MEMOIR- 
FIRST  Period         ..                 ..        ..        ..        ..  1 

Second  Period    T6 

Third  Period        ..        ..        ..        ..        ..        ..  132 

Closing  Scenes      ..        ..       ..       ..                ..  193 

GENERAL  CORRESPONDENCE    250 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


VOL.  I. 


B.  E.  Haydon.    From  a  Bust  by  Park  Frontispiece. 

B.  B.  Haydon.  From  an  Etching  by  Sir  David  Wilkie  .  .  to  face  1 
1  Pen  Sketch  by  Wilkie.    A  Figure  for  his  '  Distraining  for 

Bent'    —  75 

The  Executioner  in  '  Solomon.'   First  Pen  Sketch      .    .  to  face  78 

Pen  Sketch.    From  Journal    „  80 

First  Study  for  'Jerusalem'  .    .    „  91 

Maria  Foote,  afterwards  Countess  of  Harrington.    From  a 

Sketch  in  Haydon's  Journal   „  111 

'Lazarus.'    First  Sketch  of  the  principal  figure  ....  „  118 

'  Lazarus.'    First  Sketches  for  female  figures      ....  „  120 

'  Lazarus.'    First  Study  for  the  Gravedigger       ....  „  122 

Pen  Sketch  by  Wilkie.  A  Figure  for  his '  Chelsea  Pensioners '  —  131 

B.  E.  Haydon.  From  a  Cast  taken  after  Death  .  ...  to  face  218 
Sketch  from  Haydon's  Journal  of  a  Figure  in  the 

'  Jerusalem  '    —  249 

David  Wilkie  in  an  Argument   to  face  2L2 

Omnibcs  Heads  :    Profiles  of  Haydon  and  •  Wilkie. 

From  Haydon's  Journal   „  26G 

Portrait  of  Haydon's  Wife   „  445 

A  Norman  Peasant  Girl.    1814   —  4C9 


VOL.  II. 

John  Keats.    Sketched  in  Haydon's  Painting-room  from 


Life,  1816  Frontispiece. 

B.  B.  Haydon.    Sketched  by  John  Keats  in  Haydon's 

Journal   to  face  16 

Early  Sketch  by  Haydon  of  the  '  Theseus  '     .    .    .    .  „  171 

A  Study  by  Haydon.    1813   „  264 

Stody  from  Memory  of  an  Expression  in  Insanity     .    .  „  451 

Sketch  for  Alexander  and  Buceihalus.   1826    ...  —  481 

VOL.  I.  C 


PREFACE 


More  than  twenty  years  have  been  allowed  to  elapse  since  the 
publication  of  the  fragment  of  \inrevised  and  carelessly  written 
autobiography  Haydon  left  behind  him.  The  time  appears 
to  have  come  for  a  further  selection  from  his  Journals  and 
Correspondence. 

In  making  these  selections,  from  the  unpublished  part  of 
Haydon's  "  Journals  "  which  I  venture  to  think  may  prove  of 
interest,  I  have  been  guided  by  the  wish  to  put  forth  nothing 
that  can  be  held  to  violate  confidence,  or  give  pain  in  any 
quarter,  and  yet  secure  the  sequence  of  events  which  I  have 
endeavoured  to  place  in  their  true  light. 

The  Personal  "  Memoir,"  for  which  I  am  wholly  and  solely 
respoi  sible,  has  no  pretension  to  a  "Life"  of  Haydon — that 
would  involve  a  history  of  the  Art  for  the  first  half  of  this 
century — but  is  intended  rather  as  a  sketch  of  his  labours  by 
way  of  introduction  to  his  Letters.  I  am  too  conscious  that  it 
must  be  full  of  faults,  for  it  has  been  written  by  fragments, 
under  many  distractions  of  domestic  affliction  ;  and  I  am  neither 
a  'Painter'  nor  a  'Literary'  man.  Her  Majesty's  Eoyal  Navy 
does  not  instruct  the  midshipmen  in  Literature  or  Art.  But  I 
have  endeavoured  to  write  it  fairly.  Fontenelle  said  that,  "  if 
his  hand  were  full  of  truths,"  he  would  not  "  open  his  fingers  to 
let  them  out."  Some  may  think  I  should  have  followed 
Fontenelle.  I  have  only  opened  one  finger;  and  if  no  previous 
publication  had  been  made,  it  is  probable  I  might  not  have 
opened  that.  For  so  far  as  Haydon's  reputation  as  a  Painter 
and  Writer  on  Art  is  concerned,  that  may  be  safely  left  to 
Time ;  and  there  is  a  difficulty  in  a  son  writing  an  impartial 


viii 


PREFACE. 


"  Memoir "  of  his  father.  "With  such  a  father  as  Haydon, 
involved,  like  his  great  predecessor  Benvenuto  Cellini,  iu 
innumerable  broils,  the  difficulty  is  not  diminished.  Even 
independent  criticism  cannot  always  escape  the  bias  of  party 
feeling,  or  private  friendship.  But  it  has  been  my  earnest 
pndeavour  to  show  that,  it  is  possible  to  combine  impartiality 
with  natural  affection. 

If  I  appear  to  support  Haydon,  it  is  not  because  I  wish  to 
exaggerate  his  claims,  or  to  make  him  out  a  Hero,  or  a  Martyr, 
but  because  I  know  that  Bight  has  not  always  been  done. 
There  are  many  things  in  his  case  it  is  only  just,  and  con- 
venient to  remember. 

In  the  first  place,  the  position  Haydon  took  up  in  Art 
from  his  entrance  into  London  society  in  1804  down  to  his 
death  in  1846,  has  not  been  sufficiently  understood.  It  was 
peculiar,  and  original.  It  was  in  defence  of  the  capacity  of 
the  English  people  for  Eine  Art.  At  the  beginning  of  this 
century  nobody  in  English  society  admitted  the  claim.  It 
was  then  the  common  creed  that  the  English  people  had 
no  sense  of  beauty  iu  works  of  utility,  and  that  English 
Artists  were  only  fitted  to  paint  portraits.  In  High  Art,  i.e., 
Epic,  Dramatic,  and  Poetic  Art,  it  was  held  by  society  that 
Englishmen  could  produce  nothing  worthy  of  admiration; 
that  foreign  specimens  alone  merited  their  reverence — conse- 
quently these  were  over-reverenced  —  that  the  climate  of 
England  was  too  dull,  and  damp,  and  foggy  to  produce  Artists 
with  imagination,  and  the  English  people  too  gross,  and  too 
toiling  after  wealth,  politics,  and  power,  to  have  either  time  or 
perception  for  much  else.  The  lower  Art  of  imitation  was  all 
we  had  feeling  for,  or  could  aspire  to.  The  capacity  of  any  living 
English  artist  to  possess  "Genius"  was  scouted.  We  were  not 
a  gifted  people.  We  could  turn  out  an  80-gun  ship,  though 
only  after  the  model  of  a  French  prize,  and  we  could  build  a 
prison,  or  a  gasometer,  but  we  could  not  produce  an  "  Oratorio  " 
or  a  "  Requiem  ;"  construct  a  decent  palace  or  gallery,  nor  em- 
bellish one,  built  for  us,  by  exquisite  design,  highly  wrought 
out ;  nor  express  fine  thoughts  or  beautiful  forms  in  works  of 
common  utility.    Thus,  by  easy  gradations,  society,  by  1812, 


PREFACE.  ix 


had  arrived  at  the  conclusion  High  Art  was  not  our  forte,  and 
it  was  useless  to  attempt  it.  There  are  still  persons  amongst 
us  who  hold  to  this  belief. 

Haydon  denied  these  conclusions  ;  and  his  whole  life  was  one 
hard  struggle  to  disprove  the  necessity  for  their  existence,  and 
to  prove  that  Englishmen  could  create  as  well  as  copy,  in  Art 
and  Design,  as  in  mechanical  contrivances.  He  did  not  dispute 
the  variableness  of  the  climate,  or  question  the  ignorance  of 
the  people.  But  lie  denied  that  climate  or  situation  were  the 
cause  of  intellectual  development.  Foreigners  had  no  special 
aptitude  for  Design,  and  the  perception  of  beauty  was  not  the 
privilege  of  a  nation  or  of  a  class.  He  explained  our  national 
ignorance  of  Art — first,  by  the  Eeformation,  which  destroyed 
l  ine  Art  in  England ;  sec  'ndly,  by  the  absence  of  men  of  real 
genius  to  meet  the  liberal  patronage  of  the  day  of  Charles  I. 
and  King  William ;  *  and  thirdly,  in  this  century,  by  local 
obstruction  and  insufficient  patronage.  He  maintained  the 
private  patronage  of  the  day  was  too  petty  and  mean  to 
support  the  production  of  great  works  for  great  spaces.t  But 
he  also  asserted  that  the  English  people,  ignorant  as  they  were, 
had  no  lack  of  sympathy  or  feeling  for  works  of  the  highest 
aim,  when  such  works  were  put  before  them. 

"  Any  man,"  he  says  ( 1 807),  "  with  the  practical  good,  sense 
of  the  race,  would  understand  the  Cartoons  and  the  Elgin 
Marbles.  They  are  intelligible  to  the  plainest  understanding."}: 

*  Tlie  eminent  artists  in  England  at  these  periods  were  all  foreigners,  attracted 
by  the  high  prices  the  patrons  pai  l.  Lely  and  Kneller  were  botli  \\\  stphalians  ; 
the  Vandeveldes  and  Varelst  were  Hollanders;  Gibber  was  a  Dane;  Verrio  a 
Neapolitan ;  G  ibbons  a  Dutchman  ;  and  Laguerre  a  Frenchman.  We  had  not  a 
bingle  man  of  any  real  eminence  before  Hogarth. — Ed. 

t  Take  the  instance  of  Lord  Mansiield  haggling  over  thirty  guineas  for 
Wilkie's  'Village  Politicians,'  trying  to  get  it  for  fifteen,  and  "  cheapening  "  the 
picture,  as  Hazlitt  says,  as  if  it  were  "  a  turkey  or  a  goose." — Ed. 

%  When  the  Elgin  Marbles  were  subsequently  shown  to  the  public  (1817)  at 
the  British  Museum,  Haydon  and  Wilkie  were  present  on  tin.'  opening  day.  Two 
workmen  came  in  and  looked  long  and  silently  at  the  marbles.  "How  broken 
they  are,  ain't  they?"  said  one.  "Yes,''  said  the  other,  "but,  how  like  lifu ! " 
Wilkie  nudged  Haydon :  "  There,"  said  he,  "  you  might  just  study  them  to 
d  nsday,  but  you  could  never  convey  their  excellence  by  speech  more  com- 
pletely." It  is  only  fair,  however,  to  Haydon's  opponents  to  add  that,  on 
another  occasion  he  was  present  when  a  gentleman  came  in.  After  looking  at 
the  marbles  for  some  time,  he  said  to  the  attendant,  "  And  pray  what  may  these 
marbles  be  remarkable  for?"  "Oh,  Sir,"  replied  the  man,  "because  they  are 
couriered  to  be  so  like  life."  "Like  life,"  said  the  gentleman— "  like' life ! 
Why,  what  of  that  ?  "  and  contemptuously  turning  on  his  heel  he  walked  out.— Ed. 


X 


PREFACE. 


But  the  Cartoons  were  then  almost  inaccessible  at  Hampton 
Court,  and  the  Elgin  Marbles  were  shut  up  in  a  shed  in  Park 
Lane.  "  Show  the  people  of  England  fine  works,"  said  Hay- 
don  ;  "  give  them  the  opportunity  of  study  and  the  means  of 
instruction ;  teach  them  the  basis  of  beauty  in  Art,  and 
then  give  your  opinion,  if  you  like ;  but  you  have  no  right 
to  condemn  your  fellow-countrymen  when  you  give  them  none 
of  the  advantages  foreigners  enjoy ;  when  you  have  no  schools 
for  Art  instruction,  no  Art  galleries  open  to  public  view,  no 
national  Collections,  no  Schools  of  Design,  and  when  you  refuse 
to  allow  that  Art  has  a  public  function,  and  absolutely  with- 
hold from  it  all  public  support."  To  assert,  under  such  circum- 
stances, that  Art  never  under  any  circumstances  could  revive 
in  England,  he  asserted  was  "  a  preposterous  folly."  Neither 
(Greece  nor  Italy  had  burst  forth  into  their  perfection  at  once.* 
England,  in  the  thirteenth  century,  in  her  knowledge  of  form, 
colour,  light,  shadow,  and  in  fresco  decoration,  was  in  advance 
of  Italy  ;t  and  had  her  progress  not  been  checked  by  the  Ee- 
formation,  would  have  been  at  the  head  of  Europe.  Genius 
in  the  artist,  and  taste  in  the  patron  he  admitted,  must  exist 
together  to  secure  the  permanent  advance  of  Art.  But  neither 
genius  nor  taste,  he  said,  were  dependent  upon  latitude  and 
longitude. 

In  pro  >f  of  his  position,  as  regarded  painters  and  sculptors, 
Haydon  pointed  to  Hogarth,  Beynolds,  Bomney,  Wilson, 
Gainsborough,  Flaxman,  Barry,  and  latterly,  to  Constable, 
Turner,  Wilkie,  Mulready,  Lough,  Chantrey,  and  Bell,  the 
product  of  one  century,  and  that,  in  spite  of  fogs  and  want  of 

*  .Mian  relates  (lib.  x.  ch.  2)  that  in  the  early  periods  of  Greek  Art  the 
Creek  painters  wi  re  in  the  habit  of  writing  underneath  their  paintings,  "  This  is  a 
horse,"  "  This  is  a  tree,"  "This  is  a  bull,"  &e.  By  degrees  they  got  to  express 
the  species  distinctly,  then  to  foreshortening,  then  to  draperies,  expiession,  action, 
portrait,  and  ideal  Art. — Ed. 

t  Strutt  states  that  between  the  tenth  and  thirteenth  centuries  Engli-h 
painters  were  habitually  employed  painting  large  pictures  representing  passages 
from  history  and  the  actions  of  great  mm.  Such  a  one  was  presented  in  the 
t.  nth  cc  ntiiry  to  the  church  of  Ely  bv  Etheleda  (widow  of  Berfhwood,  Duke  of 
Northumberland),  in  which  she  had  '"  caused  to  be  painted  the  history  of  the 
great  actions  of  her  d«  ceased  lord."  in  order  to  preserve  the  memory  of  his  valour 
and  of  his  virtues.  Evelyn  in  his  '  Diary.*  20th  September,  1IJ72,  speaks  of  the 
p.dace  of  Sir  Rob.  rt  Clayton,  in  the  Old  Jewry,  as  containing  a  superb  b  impu  ting 
renin,  wainscoted  with  eedar,  and  adorned  with  battles  of  gods  and  giants  in 
fcesco.-ED. 


PREFACE. 


sunshine,  poor  pay,  and  the  curious  apathy  of  the  nobility. 
What  better  proof  was  needed  of  the  genius  of  Englishmen  ? 
"  As  for  the  people  at  large,  would  you,"  he  asks,  "  expect 
any  people  to  care  for  literature  if  you  did  not  teach  them  to 
read?  In  like  manner,  teach  our  people  their  A.  B.  C.  in  Art, 
and  they  would  show  that  taste  and  feeling  for  Art  he  for  one 
believed  them  to  pos-ess." 

In  spite  of  the  liveliness  and  perspicuity  with  which  Haydon 
expressed  his  views,  he  was  set  down  as  a  "  young  enthusiast ;  " 
and  in  England  nothing  more  is  needed.  That  mattered  little, 
however,  to  him.  He  believed  he  was  in  the  right.  And 
whether  he  was  right  or  wrong,  so  far  as  regarded  the  inherent 
genius  and  taste  of  the  people  for  High  Art,  he  felt  he  was 
right  as  to  the  benefit  that  would  accrue  to  the  nation  if  a  dis- 
ciplined system  of  '  independent '  education  in  Art  were  esta- 
blished, and  Painting  and  Design  firmly  and  generously  sup- 
ported. The  country,  he  asserted,  was  teeming  with  talent, 
which  only  wanted  right  direction,  scientific  instruction,  and 
fair  reward. 

To  this  end,  therefore,  Haydon  set  himself  from  the  first  to 
remove  obstructions  to  the  extension  among  the  people  of  a 
scientific  system  of  Art  teaching,  and  to  obtain  from  the  Govern- 
ment and  the  nobility  the  recognition  of  Art  as  a  business  of 
national  concern,  by  the  foundation  of  Art  schools,  and  by  the 
establishment  of  Art  galleries  worthy  of  the  nation.  His 
object  was  not  only  to  refine  the  Art,  but  to  promote  industry, 
encourage  trade,  and  extend  the  knowledge  of  all  classes.  He 
wished  to  bring  the  nation  to  regard  Art  with  more  serious  in- 
terest, and  to  lift  ideal  Art  out  of  the  darkness  into  which  the 
Reformation  had  thrust  it,  and  the  hesitation  of  Reynolds 
coupled  with  the  apathy  and  ignorance  of  our  nobility,  kept  it 
jammed  down.  And  he  saw  further  than  his  contemporaries. 
Looking  upon  Commerce  as  something  more  than  a  mere  affair 
of  sale  and  purchase,  rather  as  a  pursuit  in  which  high  skill, 
sound  knowledge,  and  an  organised  connection  must  be  combined 
with,  and  will  be.  lost  without  excellence  in  workmanship,  as  in 
material,  he  aimed  at  so  educating  our  manufacturers  and 
artisans  in  true  principles  of  Art  and  Design,  as  to  secure  to 


PREFACE. 


England,  he  hoped,  that  supremacy  in  manufacture  which,  if 
we  could  not  design  a  beautiful  pattern  as  well  as  make  a  good 
article,  he  foresaw  must  be  lost  to  us  on  the  conclusion  of 
Peace. 

He  had  also  the  intention  to  train  and  educate  a  school  of 
Painters,  making  Form  the  basis  of  their  Art,  in  order  to 
show  how  thoroughly  Englishmen  could  draw,  design,  and 
paint  when  scientifically  instructed. 

Thus  it  was  that,  from  the  first,  Haydon  made  a  place  for  him- 
self in  the  Art.  He  refused  to  allow  that  Art  was  a  mere  matter 
of  amusement  for  the  leisure  of  others,  or  of  family  portraiture, 
or  of  household  decoration.  He  contended,  against  patrons, 
nobility,  and  members  of  Parliament,  that  Art  and  Design  was 
a  great  educational  and  economical  question  they  should  look  to, 
and  which  it  behoved  the  nation  to  look  to,  or  the  nation  would 
suffer  for  its  neglect.  A  knowledge  of  the  beauties,  capabilities, 
and  actual  practical  utilities  of  Art,  Haydon  maintained,  was 
"  essential  to  the  general  interests  of  England,"  and  more  or 
less  applicable  "  to  every  situation  and  circumstance  of  her 
national  life."  "  Design,"  he  writes,  "  is  the  basis  of  all  Art, 
and  a  basis  of  such  breadth  that  manufactures,  as  well  as  Art, 
rest  in  its  excellence."  That  he  was  the  ardent  and  determined 
advocate  of  the  early  training  of  all  classes  in  the  principles  of 
Art  and  Design  will  be  easily  understood.  "  We  are  inferior," 
he  argued  (18US),  "  to  the  French  and  Italians  of  the  fifteenth 
and  sixteenth  centuries  ;  beyond  all  conception  inferior  to  the 
Greeks;  and  not  even  equal  to  the  ancient  Egyptians  in  our 
designs  for  manufacture?.  And  why  ?  Pecan se  our  pursuits  in 
Art  are  low.  Eecause  we  do  not  cherish  that  style  as  a  nation 
which  is  the  basis  of  excellence  in  those  departments  of  Art ; 
and  because  we  do  not  strive  to  raise  the  taste  of  the  nation, 
but  keep  it  down  to  the  level  of  personal  vanity,  trading  pro- 
pensities, and  pecuniary  success." 

To  cure  this  defect,  Haydon  insisted,  in  addition  to  the  for- 
mation of  a  central  Art  Gallery  in  London,  with  provincial 
galleries  for  the  great  towns,  that  scientific  instruction  in  the 
trun  principles  of  Art  and  Design  should  form  part  of  every 
scheme  of  education  for  every  class  throughout  the  country. 


PREFACE. 


xiii 


For  the  rich  he  would  have  Art  professors  at  the  Universities. 
For  the  middle  classes  and  mechanics  he  proposed  a  central 
establishment  in  London,  with  branch  Schools  of  Design,  sepa- 
rate, independent,  and  distinct,  throughout  the  provinces.  1  he 
course  of  first  instruction  to  be  the  same  in  all,  though  varying 
in  degree,  viz. :  the  study  of  the  human  form,  and  then  orna- 
mentation, design,  or  painting,  hs  the  case  might  be. 

One  thing  he  appears  to  have  aimed  at  was  to  avoid  the 
danger  of  subjecting  the  schools  to  the  official  direction  and 
control  of  the  Government,  or  of  the  Royal  Academy.  He 
would  have  the  schools  form  part  of  the  national  system  of 
education,  but  independent;  otherwise  they  would  soon  sink  to 
the  level  of  mere  drawing-schools.  This  was  partly  his  dread 
of  that  depressing  Academic  teaching,  and  partly  his  suspicion 
of  Government  Departmental  Control,  which  reduces  every- 
thing it  touches  to  one  dead  level  of  uniform  mediocrity. 
"  In  matters  of  Art  and  Design,"  Haydon  used  to  say,  "  Govern- 
ment should  help,  but  not  direct." 

With  regard  to  our  rich  men  who  heard  nothing  of  Art  at 
college,  and  who  thought  frivolously  of  it  in  after  life,  his 
object,  was  to  make  them  learn  to  draw  the  human  figure.  He 
did  not  wish  to  tease  them  with  a  mass  of  technical  detail,  to 
which  they  would  pay  no  attention,  but  rather  by  teaching 
them  only  to  draw,  give  them  opportunities  of  obtaining  an  in- 
sight into  the  real  powers  of  Art,  so  as  to  move  their  sense  of 
beauty,  quicken  their  sympathies,  and  lay  the  foundation  for 
that  feeling  for  the  essential  excellence  of  Art  which,  he  hoped 
would  insensibly  follow.*  Thus,  in  his  ardour  and  public  zeal, 
he  tru-ted  we  should  not  only  get  excellence  in  Design  for 
manufacture  among  our  artisans,  provided  the  broad  and  true 
principles  of  Art  instruction  were  followed  ;  but  amongst  our 
rich  men  and  nobility,  a  race  of  state>men  and  politicians  would 
arise  able  to  distinguish  accurately,  and  appreciate  the  merits 
of  Painting,  Sculpture,  and  Architecture,  competent  to  deal 

*  Charles  I.  waa  so  convinced  of  the  necessity  of  educating  the  Engl'sh 
nobility  in  the  principles  or  Art  that  lie  established  an  Academy  for  their  espi  cial 
instruction.  It  was  railed  the  '  Museum  Minerva,'  and  was  organised  in  the 
house  oi  Bit  Francis  Kingston  in  Covent  Garden. — Ei>. 


PREFACE. 


with  Art  questions — than  which  nothing  in  those  days  was  less 
understood  in  Parliament — and  qualified  to  become  enlightened 
patrons  worthy  of  the  genius  of  the  country.  Were  this  so,  we 
should  no  longer  be  left  open  to  the  reflection  that  our  edu- 
cated, wealthy,  and  high-born  men  grow  up,  and  "  issue  out  to 
their  respective  public  duties  deficient  in  a  feeling,  the  culti- 
vation of  which  has  brightened  the  glory  of  the  greatest  men 
and  most  accomplished  princes." 

But  Haydon  urged  upon  Parliament  and  the  public  that 
nothing  satisfactory  could  be  effected  without  concentrated 
and  permanent  support  from  Parliament.  Parliament,  he 
said,  must  aid  and  support  these  Schools  of  Design,  these 
public  galleries,  these  professorships,  and  for  the  purpose  of 
keeping  up  the  Historic  Art  of  the  country  and  the  splendour 
of  the  nation,  must  employ  English  painters,  as  the  Continental 
painters  were  employed  by  their  respective  Governments,  upon 
a  series  of  national  pictures,  in  fresco  or  in  oil,  for  the  decora- 
tion of  our  public  buildings,  public  offices,  law-courts,  town-halls, 
churches,  cathedrals,  and  Houses  of  Parliament.  In  short,  Par- 
liament must  give  Painting  and  Design  that  public  support 
which  Greece  and  Italy  gave,  the  glory  and  fortune  of  whose 
great  painters  and  profes-ors  of  Art  was  not  left  to  depend 
upon  the  limited  wants  or  caprice  of  individuals,  but  on  the 
performance  of  great  public  works,  for  which  their  reward  was 
a  portion  of  the  public  expenditure. 

Such  were  the  views  and  opinions  Haydon  declared  and 
urged  for  forty-two  years,  in  public  and  private,  by  every  means 
in  his  power;  by  pamphlets,  by  public  letters,  by  appeals  to 
Ministers,  by  petitions  to  Parliament,  by  lectures  to  the  people. 
And  he  laboured,  I  regret  to  have  to  say  it,  not  only  single- 
handed,  but  opposed  at  every  stage  by  the  authority  that 
should  have  helped  him  most,  "  the  iioyal  Academy  ;"  and  upon 
no  better  plea  apparently  than  that  advanced  by  President 
•Sir  Martin  Shee,  viz.,  to  support  Haydon's  views  would  be 
"injurious  to  their  custom." 

And  this  brings  me  at  once  to  a  leading  event  in  Haydon's 
life — his  separation  from  the  Eoyal  Academy.  I  would  much 
rather  have  said  nothing  about  the  unpleasant  business;  for  in 


PREFACE. 


my  humble  opinion,  as  in  Wilkie's  and  Sir  George  Beaumont's, 
the  separation  is  much  to  be  regretted  in  the  public  interest, 
provided  matters  could  have  been  satisfactorily  arranged.  In 
Haydon,  the  Academy  would  have  had  a  professor  of  painting 
such  as  Europe  had  not  seen  for  some  centuries ;  and,  in  the 
Academy,  Haydon  would  have  found  a  powerful  instrument,  of 
which  he  might  officially  have  made  enormous  use  for  the 
benefit  of  Art,  and  to  the  great  advantage  of  his  country. 
Unfortunately  differences  arose,  as  differences  always  arise 
between  the  young  men  and  the  old  institutions.  Originality 
and  independence  of  mind  are  inconsistent  with  the  principles 
of  a  "  society,"  where  energy  and  public  zeal  are  not  so  much 
wanted  as  respectful  conformity  with  its  rules  and  practice.  It 
is  not  the  ripe  fruit  but  the  dry  fruit  such  societies  prefer. 

The  rules,  practice,,  and  preferences  of  the  Royal  Academy, 
Haydon  could  not,  as  a  painter,  conscientiously  approve. 
Though  he  seems  to  have  wanted  rather  to  elevate  principles 
than  to  adopt  new  machinery.  He  would  have  repaired  and 
oiled  the  old  machine,  and  altered  its  construction  in  parts, 
but  he  would  not  have  removed  it.  Their  rule  of  self-elec- 
tion he  considered  unsound.  Qualification  was  unprovided  for, 
and  responsibility  wholly  wanting.  It  placed  in  the  hands  of 
Academicians  a  power  that  could  not  be  withdrawn,  however 
abused  ;  and  he  believed  a  power  so  held  by  an  Academy  of  Art 
grasping  all  the  honours,  and  nearly  all  the  emoluments  of  the 
profession,  invited  its  possessors  to  prefer  their  own  interest  to 
the  interests  of  the  public.  He  thought  the  rule  should  be 
absolute  that  a  character  for  professional  ability  and  integrity 
be  made  necessary  to  the  possession  of  authority,  and  that 
decision  on  these  points  be  left  to  the  body  of  the  profession, 
and  not  confined  to  the  interested  few.  He  did  not  question 
the  motives  of  Academicians.  Those  might  be  perfectly  satis- 
factory to  themselves.  But  he  complained  that  the  spirit 
which  animated  the  Council  was  cor|  orate,  selfish,  monopolising, 
and  mean,  reducing  Art  to  a  sordid  trade,  and  envious  of  the 
men  who  aimed  at  elevating  the  public  taste.  Further,  he 
insisted  on  some  better  security  that  the  interests  of  Art  and  of 
the  public  should  be  more  fairly  considered  than  self- election 


PREFACE. 


for  life,  with  eight  pictures  annually  "  on  the  line  "  by  each 
Academician,  was  likely  to  offer. 

In  all  this,  it  is  now  admitted,  Haydon  took  a  just  view  of 
the  position  and  wants  of  the  Art,  the  Academy,  and  of  the 
Country.  The  Council  of  the  Eoyal  Academy  thought  other- 
wise. Nothing  dies  so  hard  as  corporate  abuse.  There  is  a 
Judaic  obstinacy  about  its  defence  that  is  magnificent.  The 
Academy  Council  were  not  wanting  on  this  occasion.  They 
drove  Haydon  from  their  doors,  and  a  desperate  and  determined 
struggle  ensued  between  the  two.*  That  Haydon  never  flinched 
is  matter  of  fact.  We  know  that  for  four-and-thirty  years, 
under  every  circumstance  of  harass,  anxiety,  mortification,  and 
ruin,  four  times  repeated,  he  kept  up  this  struggle,  which,  I 
believe,  would  have  killed  most  men  in  the  first  four  years 
without  the  remaining  thirty.  But  then,  he  was  essentially 
one  of  Horace's  men :  "  Quern  neque  pauperies,  neque  mors, 
neque  vincula  terrent." 

How,he  forced  society  and  the  public  to  listen  to  and  endorse 
his  views,  how  nearly  he  succeeded  in  "  reforming"  the  Royal 
Academy  in  spite  of  themselves,  first  with  the  King  (George  I V.), 
then  with  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  and  latterly,  with  Parlia- 
ment, are  also  matters  of  fact.  But  if  he  did  not  entirely  suc- 
ceed in  carrying  his  plan  for  the  "  reform  "  of  that  institution, 
he  first  brought  the  Academy  before  a  Committee  of  the  House 
of  Commons,  1836-38,  and  in  spite  of  their  determined  resist- 
ance, broke  the  charm  of  their  assumed  privacy,  and  left  Par- 
liament and  the  public  a  valuable  precedent  for  future  use. 

He  lived  also  to  see  his  own  plan  for  the  establishment  of  a 
central  School  of  Design  for  London  recommended  to  Parliament 
and  adopted.  And  although  the  extension  of  his  plan  to  the 
provinces  was  refused  by  the  Government,  obstructed  by  the 
Board  of  Trade,  and  intrigued  against  by  the  Royal  Academy, 
he  succeeded  against  all  three  authorities  in  rousing  the  people 

*  Tho  late  Lady  Holland,  in  T.ord  Melbourne's  hearing,  once  drew  a  parallel 
between  Ilaydon  and  Ali  liaba's  bruth,  r.  "  No,"  said  Lord  Melbourne.  "  that  is 
not  a  fair  (  a'se.  Havdon  did  not  want  to  ]ob  tho  Academy :  he  wanted  to  add  to 
their  wealth.  Brides,  he  not  only  brought  'Forty  Thieves'  upon  his  back,  but 
all  the  rich  nu  n  behind  them  ;  ami  though  they  have  often  quartered,  they  never 
killed  biw."    Lady  Blessington  told  me  this. — Ld. 


PREFACE. 


to  the  imperative  necessity  of  establishing  such  schools,  and 
between  18S6  and  1812  he  carried  his  plan  in  all  the  principal 
towns  triumphantly.  He  lived  also  to  see  public  employment 
given  to  British  artists  by  the  State,  and  though  he  was  kept 
out  of  all  share  in  the  decoration  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament 
yet  his  "  principle  "  was  acknowledged,  and  acted  on,  and  the 
"  plan  "  was  his  own.* 

If  in  his  prime  he  died,  suddenly  and  sadly,  broken-hearted 
by  pecuniary  distress,  yet  he  had  lived  long  enough  to  see 
much  that  he  had  struggled  for  accepted,  and  to  receive  assur- 
ances that  the  worst  abuses  of  the  old  academical  system  were 
swept  away,  and  the  path  made  easier  for  the  young  painters 
coming,  and  to  come  upon  the  stage.  But  to  the  last,  it  is 
not  to  be  forgotten,  he  predicted  much  that  is  happening,  the 
loss  of  good  drawing  among  our  artists,  the  break-down  of  our 
Schools  of  Design,  from  "  a  mean  desire  "  of  the  authorities 
in  Art,  "not  to  raise  skilful  designers,"  lest  "the  established 
artist  might  be  interfered  with  "  (letter  to  Kirkup,  2Gth  June, 
1844) ;  and  the  revival  of  the  old  bitterness  and  antagonism  be- 
tween the  lay  artists  and  the  l\oyal  Academy,  if  this  institution 
was  not  "  thoroughly  and  effectually  reformed  by  Parliament." t 

*  It  is  the  fashion  nowadays  to  attribute  to  Prince  Albert  the  foundation  of 
our  Schools  of  Design,  and.  the  idea  of  the  decoration  by  paintings  of  our  Houses 
of  Parliament.  Without  the  least  desire  to  depreciate  the  undoubtedly  great 
services  to  Art  of  Prince  Albert,  it,  is  to  be  observed  that  his  late  Royal  Highness 
did  not  settle  in  this  country  before  1840,  and  that  he  took  no  active  part  in  the 
Art  affairs  of  England  before  his  ai  p  tintment  to  the  hi  ad  of  the  Royal  Fine 
Arts'  Commission  of  1842;  where;  a  the  "Schools  of  Design"  and  the  public 
employment  of  our  painters  in  the  decoration  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament  had 
been  proposed  by  Haydon  for  the  previous  thirty  years,  and  was,  de  facto,  carried 
by  him  between  1836  and  1842.  -  Ed. 

t  If,  from  the  events  of  the  last  two  years,  we  may  draw  any  conclusion,  such  a 
period  of  antagonism  would  appear  to  have  been  entered  upon.  The  corre- 
spondence between  ''a  landscape  painter"  and  the  Academy  Hanging  Com- 
mittee of  1874,  and  the  fact  that,  in  1875,  the  Academy  rejected  33U2  pictures 
out  of  4800  sent  in  for  exhibition,  suggests  matter  for  reflection.  For  it  was  as 
impossible  to  justify  the  tone  taken  by  the  Hanging  Committee  in  1874,  as  it.  is 
to  believe  that,  out  cf  the  3392  rejected  paintings  of  1875,  anything  could  lie 
found  worse  tl  an  a  large  proportion  of  the  paintings  by  Academicians  actually 
given  place,  and  prominent  place  in  the  exhibition  of  t  e  year.  In  either  case 
the  result  is  not  hopeful.  But  privileged  societies,  like  our  Royal  Academy, 
never  appear  to  understand  it  is  their  interest  to  treat  the  outside  world, 
particularly  the  professional  part  of  it,  with  fairness  and  consideration.  Such  a 
course  would  les-en  hostility.  If  it  does  not  increase  the  strength  of  the  society, 
at  least  it  leads  to  the  gradual  subsidence  of  that  extreme  animosity  and  resent- 
ment which  is  inevitable,  which  often  prevails,  and  is  never  wholly  absent  where 
there  is  a  privileged,  established,  and  possibly  corrupt  institution. — Ed. 


VOL.  L 


xviii 


PREFACE. 


During  Haydon's  long  war  with  the  Academy  truces  did 
occasionally  occur,  in  which  efforts  to  effect  a  reconciliation 
were  made  on  both  sides.  Callcott,  R.A.,  made  the  first  in  1814. 
Haydon  made  another  in  1826.  Eastlake,  B.A.,  and  Collins,  E.A., 
made  a  third  in  1842;  andWilkie  never  ceased,  while  he  lived, 
to  try  and  effect  a  permanent  peace.  But  concord  was  not 
possible,  and  each  attempt  ended  as  such  attempts  usually  end 
where  neither  side  believes  in  the  sincerity  of  \he  other.  "  I 
forgive  you,"  says  Kowena  to  the  Knight,  "  I  forgive  you,  as 
a  Christian  " — "  Which  means,"  remarks  Wamba.  "  that  she 
does  not  forgive  him  at  all."  "  Their  minds,"  as  Bacon  has  it, 
"  were  not  planted  far  enough  above  their  injuries  "  for  peace 
to  be  lasting — any  peace  between  them  would  have  been  broken 
in  a  month.'  The  sign  of  the  Dutch  merchant  who,  beside 
the  motto,  "  To  perpetual  peace,"  had  hung  the  picture  of  a 
cemetery,  was  the  fittest  for  both  sides. 

Whether  and  how  far  Haydon  in  this  separation  and  conflict 
was  prudent  and  right,  or  imprudent  and  wrong,  or  the  reverse ; 
whether  he  ought  to  have  ploughed  with  the  Academy  cattle, 
whether  the  Academy  would  have  lent  him  thpir  cattle,  or 
whether  he  could  have  ploughed  with  them,  are  questions  upon 
which  I  give  no  opinion  here.  The  facts  of  his  life  must 
decide.  But  his  object  throughout  appears  to  me  perfectly 
clear.  He  craved  to  anticipate  that  deficiency  in  High  Art 
which  he  foresaw,  sooner  or  later,  would  be  deeply  felt  in  this 
country,  and  he  knew  himself  equal  to  supply  that  deficiency. 
Then  again,  he  literally  lusted  for  the  supremacy  of  England 
over  her  Continental  rivals  in  Art,  and  Design,  as  in  Science 
and  War,  and  by  means  through  which  alone,  in  his  opinion, 
Art  can  be  enabled  to  produce  on  the  minds  of  the  people  all 
those  moral  and  sublime  effects,  and  those  material  results  of 
which  he  believed  Art  and  Design  to  be  tiuly  capable.  I 
am  quite  aware  it  has  been  imputed  to  Haydon,  and  by  some 
of  those  who  should  know  better,  by  Mr.  Watts  the  painter 
for  instance,  that,  he  "embraced  the  cause  of  Art  for  bis  own 
personal  gratification  and  advancement."  But  this  may  be 
promptly  dismissed  as  one  of  those  uncharitable  and  stale 
slanders  always  imputed  to  every  man  who  aspires  to  make 


PREFACE. 


his  opinions  felt  in  his  lifetime,  or  who  st  ives  to  make 
his  fellow  men  wiser,  or  happier.  Whatever  were  Haydon's 
faults  and  imperfections,  and  I  am  not  ahout  to  write  his 
panegyric,  or  to  deny  he  had  his  share  of  human  infirmities, 
avarice  and  self-seeking  were  certainly  not  among  them.  He 
had  a  mind  ambitious  of  some  higher  distinction  than  merely 
making  money,  or  gaining  Court  honours.  That  he  sought 
Eminence  and  Fame  in  his  Art,  is  true.  Human  nature  is  so 
constituted  we  never  pursue  anything  heartily  but  upon  hopes 
of  some  reward.  But  far  beyond  this  was  his  love  for  his 
country,  belief  in  his  country's  future,  and  a  passionate  desire 
that  England  should  be  pre-eminent  in  Art  and  Design.  He 
fixed  his  mind  not  only  upon  what  was  useful,  but  upon  wh  t 
was  great  and  famous.  And  so  far  as  he  could  form  an  opinion 
of  the  interests  of  British  Art,  he  acted,  and  to  the  best  of  his 
ability,  without  reference  to  his  own  personal  gain,  and  not 
caring  whether  "  authority  "  was  pleased  or  displeased  with 
the  course  which,  in  the  public  interest,  he  deemed  it  his  duty 
to  take.  He  looked  for  his  reward  in  the  promotion  of  the 
views  and  principles  he  urged,  and  in  the  good  opinion  and 
remembrance  of  his  fellow  countrymen. 

Frederic  W.  Ha.ydon. 


London,  December  1st,  1875. 


B.R  Way&tm  l\  Jfartd  Whit 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


THE  STORY  OF  HIS  LIFE. 


FIRST  PERIOD. 

Haydon  was  born  on  the  night  of  the  26th  of  January,  1786. 
He  was  brought  into  the  world,  according  to  my  grandfather's 
journal,  in  the  midst  of  "  very  dirty  weather  "  and  a  "  S.W. 
gale." 

My  grandfather  had  a  habit  of  tacking  on  the  state  of  the 
wind  and  weather  to  every  event  he  set  down.  "Poor  Mrs. 
Burgess  died  in  childbed.  Poor  Tom  Burgess  much  distressed. 
Wind  W.N.W.,  weather  fine."  Haydon,  in  his  own  'Life,' 
says  this  meteorological  statement  always  "  alleviated  any 
pain  "  he  felt  at  the  afflictions  related. 

It  was  a  consolation  to  find  the  course  of  nature  went  on. 
You  contrasted  the  perseverance  of  the  wind  doing  its  duty 
with  the  grief  of  your  father's  friends.  Poor  Tom  Burgess  had 
lost  his  wife,  but  he  ought  to  be  comforted,  for  the  wind  was 
"  westerly "  and  the  weather  "  fine."  My  grandmother  was 
taken  in  labour  with,  as  he  hoped,  a  son  and  heir,  but  what 
troubled  him  most  was  that,  the  wind  was  "  S.W."  and  the 
weather  "  dirty." 

Haydon  was  born  in  Wimpole  Street,  Plymouth,  in  the 
well-known  house,  still  standing,  of  his  grandfather,  Robert 
Haydon,  "  Printer  and  Stationer."  Robert  Haydon  was  a 
peculiar  man.  His  grandson  seems  to  have  learned  very  little 
about  him.    He  was  separated  in  early  life  from  his  family,  to 

VOL.  I.  B 


2 


MEMOIR  OF 


which,  he  never  appears  to  have  heen  reconciled,  for  he  never 
seems  to  have  had  further  communication  with  them.  This 
peculiarity  descended  to  his  grandson.  I  apprehend  they  both 
liked  their  own  honest  will,  and  consequently  stood  apart  from 
their  relations,  determined  to  owe  their  success  or  failure  in 
life  entirely  to  themselves.  This  is  a  scheme  of  life  hardly 
suitable  to  an  old  country  where  nearly  everything  turns  upon 
"  connections,"  but  it  succeeded  with  my  great  grandfather. 

Robert  Haydon,  after  some  vicissitudes,  became  engaged  to 
Miss  Baskerville,  of  Corn  wood,  Devon,  put  himself  into  the 
office  of  the  '  Flying  Post,'  at  Exeter,  to  learn  printing,  married 
Miss  Baskerville,  and,  with  her  money  and  his  own,  he  went 
down  to  Plymouth,  about  1740,  and  set  up  in  business  as 
"Printer  and  Stationer."  I  have  heard  it  asserted  that  he 
introduced  the  printing-press  into  Plymouth — but  this  is  a 
credit  to  which  he  has  no  claim.  He  had  several  children,  but 
only  one  son  and  one  daughter  survived.  Robert  Haydon  is 
said  to  have  been  an  active  man  of  business,  fond  of  reading, 
fond  of  painting,  and  a  trifle  morose  in  his  temper.  He 
prospered,  grew  rich,  and  determined  to  make  his  only  sur- 
viving son  an  officer  in  the  army,  and  to  educate  him  accord- 
ingly. While  the  boy  was  completing  his  education  under  Dr. 
Garnett,  of  Chudleigh,  Robert  Haydon  was  seized  with  an 
affection  of  the  heart  in  December,  1773,  and  died,  apparently 
before  he  thought  it  time  to  make  his  Will. 

The  boy  was  immediately  called  home  by  his  mother  and 
required  to  give  up  all  visions  of  military  glory.  He  must 
take  his  father's  place.  Thus,  the  destinies  of  the  family  were 
changed.  Our  name  might  have  been  enrolled  on  the  list  of 
Peninsular  heroes  or  ext  nguished  on  the  plains  of  Hindostan. 
For,  not  improbably,  the  withdrawal  of  my  grandfather  from  a 
military  career  determined  the  profession  of  his  only  son, 
Haydon  the  Painter. 

My  grandfather,  Benjamin  Haydon,  was  an  unambitious  lad 
of  affectionate  disposition,  and  he  complied  at  once  with  his 
mother's  wishes.  He  also  was  fond  of  literature  and  art,  and 
with  his  constitutional  love  of  ease,  the  change  was  possibly  not 
wholly  opposed  to  his  inclination.  He  gave  up  the  army  and 
entered  on  his  father's  business,  to  which  he  soon  added  that 
of  Publishing.  In  1782  he  married  Miss  Cobley,  a  relative  of 
the  Blackall  family,  of  which  was  Offspring  Blackall,  Bishop 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


3 


of  Exeter.  Miss  Cobley  was  one  of  the  many  children  of  the 
Rev.  B.  Cobley,  Curate  of  Shillinglord,  and  subsequently 
Rector  of  Dodbrooke.  Of  Mrs.  Haydon's  brothers  one  became 
a  partner  in  her  husband's  business,  another  became  Vicar  of 
Cheddar  *  and  a  Prebendary  of  Wells,  and  the  youngest,  Thomas 
Cobley,  began  life  as  Chamberlain  to  the  last  King  of  Poland, 
then  joined  the  Russian  Army,  rose  rapidly,  became  a  dis- 
tinguished general,  settled  in  the  Crimea,  and  at  one  time  was 
Commander-in-Chief  at  Odessa.  The  late  Emperor  Nicolas 
knew  General  Cobley  well,  and  valued  him  highly.  Of  Mrs. 
Haydon's  sisters  one  was  married  to  a  wealthy  merchant  at 
Leghorn,  and  another,  the  eldest,  became  the  Countess  Mord- 
winoff,  of  Eussia,  wife  of  the  Admiral  Count  Mordwinoff,  Pre- 
sident of  the  Imperial  Council,  &c.  &c.  Through  her  cousins, 
the  Leys,  of  Somerset,  Mrs.  Haydon  was  also  highly  connected 
in  England.  But  all  this  is  only  worth  mentioning  in  order  to 
state  that  her  son,  Haydon  the  Painter,  never  troubled  any  of 
his  relatives,  preferring,  like  his  grandfather,  "to  be  the  first 
man  "  of  his  own  family. 

Mrs.  Haydon  was  a  vivacious  woman,  of  handsome  presence, 
rapid  apprehension,  and  many  accomplishments.  She  was 
imperious,  quick  tempered,  tender  hearted  to  a  degree, 
passionately  attached  to  her  children,  not  very  judicious  in 
their  management,  and  of  unbounded  benevolence  to  all  in 
distress.  She  has  been  known,  on  her  walks  in  winter,  to  go 
up  a  dark  passage,  strip  herself  of  her  quilted  petticoat  and 
give  it  to  some  poor  shivering  wretch  who  had  begged  her 
charity.  I  mention  these  little  traits  because  they  were  all, 
more  or  less,  the  inheritance  of  her  son.  He  was  equally 
passionate,  impetuous,  and  humane. 

To  the  young  couple  two  children  only  were  born :  one  son, 
Benjamin  Robert  Hiiydon,  the  subject  of  this  memoir,  and  one 
daughter,  Harriet,  Mrs.  Jiaviland,  of  Bridgewater,  still  living 
(1875). 

To  their  children  no  parents  could  be  more  indulgent, 
though,  from  what  I  have  heard  my  father  repeat,  I  suspect 
the  good  people  were  always  in  the  "  positive  "  mood.  There  is 
a  vast  deal  more  to  be  got  out  of  the  "negative"  mood,  which 

*  Cheddar  is  remarkable,  among  other  curiosities,  for  being  the  village  wherein 
Hannah  Mure,  on  her  \isit  in  1791,  tound  only  one  Bible,  and  that  propping  a 
licwer  pot. — Ed. 

IS  2 


4 


MEMOIR  OF 


parents  overlook.  Very  possibly  with  their  only  boy,  between 
their  love  of  indulgence  and  their  desire  to  train  him  rightly, 
inconsistencies  became  habitual,  and  his  grandmother's  love  of 
letting  him  have  his  own  way,  and  then  of  correcting  him  for 
taking  it,  made  matters  no  better.  I  have  heard  him  say  he 
was  alternately  scolded  and  spoiled,  the  worst  possible  training 
for  an  impetuous,  self-willed  boy.  For  his  own  part,  Haydon 
always  regretted  he  had  not  an  elder  brother.  I  Jut  then  he 
would  probably  have  thrashed  him  into  submission  to  his  own 
authority,  and  that  would  not  have  benefited  either.  The 
grandmother  died  in  1791,  and  then  the  young  couple  suc- 
ceeded to  the  entire  control  of  what  had  become  a  great  and 
growing  business,  and  to  the  unmolested  management  of  their 
own  children.  I  do  not  know  that  this  was  more  judicious. 
The  credulous  nurse  seems  to  have  taken  the  place  of  the  in- 
dulgent grandmother.  As  English  nurses  are  the  most  illiterate 
and  narrow-minded  of  their  class,  I  do  not  suppose  the  change 
was  to  the  boy's  advantage.  Yet  it  is  to  the  hands  of  these 
women  we  confine  the  formation  of  the  character  of  our  children, 
forgetting  that  every  man's  character  is  the  mould  of  his 
fortune. 

My  grandfather  was  a  High  Tory,  a  warm  adherent  of  Pitt, 
and  a  staunch  "  Church  and  State "  man.  The  fact  of  his 
being  printer  and  publisher  to  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  and 
having  Admiralty  contracts,  and  being  connected  with  the 
Church  by  marriage,  may  have  helped  him  a  little  towards  the 
settlement  of  his  political  convictions.  But  over  and  above  all, 
he  was  a  thorough-bred  Englishman,  and  loyal  to  the  back- 
bone. He  spent  his  money  freely  in  the  service  of  the  Govern- 
ment, and  he  gave  his  time  and  personal  influence  without 
a  thought  of  reward,  or  of  anything  but  his  sense  of  duty  to 
the  Government  of  his  country.  His  voluminous  correspon- 
dence with  the  Admiralty  during  his  lifetime  shows  him  to 
have  been  a  valuable  and  public-spirited  man.  On  one  oc- 
casion, by  his  great  local  influence,  he  prevented  a  serious 
outbreak  among  the  dockyard  workmen,  and  cleverly  out- 
witted the  delegates  from  Chatham  who  had  arrived  to 
organise  a  "strike."  And  on  all  occasions  he  is  quick  to 
foresee  and  warn  the  Government  of  dangers  that  must  not  be 
despised.  Then  he  seems  to  me  to  have  been  one  of  the  first  men 
to  organise  a  system  of  "  Special  Correspondence."   He  has  the 


B.  K.  HA  YD  ON. 


5 


earliest  information  of  the  movements  of  fleets  and  armies,  and 
this  he  transmits  privately  and -immediately  to  the  Admiralty. 
Had  he  been  a  stock-jobber,  which  he  never  was,  he  might 
have  rivalled  a  modern  syndicate.  All  this  he  did  at  his  own 
expense ;  for  beyond  the  official  thanks  of  the  Admiralty, 
repeatedly  transmitted  to  him,  for  his  "valuable  services.'' 
it  is  clear  he  never  sought  for,  nor  received  compensation  in 
any  form.  On  the  contrary,  Mr.  Addington's  Admiralty,  on 
a  plea  of  economy,  and  on  the  recommendation  of  some  of  their 
officials,  in  1802,  deprived  Mr.  Hay  don  of  his  contracts  for 
stationery,  &c. — contracts  which,  he  states  in  his  memorial  to 
the  Board,  "  had  been  in  his  House  for  47  years,  without  one 
word  of  complaint  from  any  quarter."  But  that  availed  him 
nothing.  If  a  man  was  too  proud  to  flatter  and  too  honour- 
able to  bribe,  he  stood  no  chance  in  those  days,  and  so  Mr. 
Haydon  lost  his  contracts.  And  that  was  all  the  reward,  saving 
the  "thanks,"  he  ever  received.  But  it  did  not  affect  his  public 
zeal,  for  he  corresponded  with  the  Admiralty  to  the  last. 

It  will  be  easily  understood  from  this  description  of  him 
that  his  hospitable  house  should  be  a  general  rendezvous  of 
officers  of  the  garrison  and  fleet.  County  neighbours,  town 
councillors,  aldermen,  and  mayor,  all  met  there  to  gossip  and 
discuss  the  problems  of  the  day,  and  to  ponder  on  the  proba- 
bility of  that  Great  Revolution  the  exasperation  of  Rousseau 
was  kindling  over  Europe.  Children,  we  know,  are  more  or  less 
affected  by  the  state  of  society  about  them,  as  it  affects  their 
parents  ;  and  thus  it  is  not  difficult  to  see  how  Haydon  acquired 
that  bias  for  politics  and  war,  which  he  never  lost  to  the  last 
day  of  his  life.  The  people  about  the  child  talked  of  nothing- 
else.  The  busy  town  of  Plymouth,  so  picturesquely  situated, 
with  its  rocks  and  water,  its  ships  and  batteries ;  and  Devon- 
port — it  then  went  by  the  name  of  Dock — with  its  building 
ships  and  basins;  and  Mount  Edgcumbe,  with  its  beautiful 
woods ;  and  the  vast  Sound,  with  its  huge  men-of-war  floating 
on  its  waters  :  all  contained  a  thousand  elements  to  attract  and 
fascinate  a  fearless  and  imaginative  boy.  I  have  often  heard 
him  describe  his  recollections  of  those  days,  after  the  war  had 
begun,  how  the  Sound  was  filled  with  fighting-fleets  prepar- 
ing for  sea,  or  triumphantly  returning,  battered  and  blackened, 
with  shattered  spars  and  torn  sails,  but  with  the  captured  ships 
of  the  enemy  in  tow  ;  and  how  gallant  frigates,  amidst  the 


6  MEMOIR  OF 


cheers  of  thousands  of  people,  were  to  be  seen  rounding  the 
point  into  the  inner  harbour,  with  the  Union  Jack  floating 
proudly  above  the  Tricolour  or  the  Spanish  flag,  while  the 
guns  of  the  batteries  thundered  out  salutes  in  honour  of  the 
victors.  Such  sights,  and  they  were  by  no  means  infrequent, 
were  calculated  to  develop  a  child's  faculties,  to  arouse  his 
pugnacity,  and  leave  lasting  impressions  upon  his  young  mind. 
It  is,  perhaps,  best  for  children  to  be  kept  tranquil  and  happy. 
But  in  those  days,  at  a  seaport,  it  was  impossible.  Men  and 
women  talked  of  nothing  else  but  battles  and  sieges,  and  actions 
by  sea  or  land,  of  Nelson,  of  Marat,  Kobespierre,  Tom  Paine, 
and,  in  time,  Napoleon.  Their  children  were  even  taken  on 
board  the  captured  ships*  to  examine  the  effects  of  action, 
and  habitually  played  with  bone  guillotines,  cutting  off  the 
King  of  France's  head — toys  put  together  and  sold  by  French 
prisoners. 

The  influence  of  such  things  upon  an  impressionable  lad  of 
vehement  disposition  cannot  be  doubted.  Hazlitt  always  said 
such  an  education  was  "  admirably  calculated  to  make  Haydon 
a  boatswain  of  a  man-of-war,"  and  to  some  extent  Hazlitt  was 
right,  though  that  was  his  way  of  expressing  envy  of  Haydon's 
boisterous  good  health.  For  though  most  of  what  a  man  has 
he  inherits  from  his  infant  life,  it  does  not  follow  that  he 
enters  upon  the  whole  of  his  inheritance.  Haydon  retained  to 
the  last  the  effects  of  these  early  influences,  and  they  occasion- 
ally stood  him  in  good  stead ;  though  it  may  be  questioned 
whether,  without  experiencing  them  in  the  first  instance,  he 
would  ever  have  required  their  services. 

Amidst  all  this  life  of  excitement  and  surprises  I  can  only 
get  a  glimpse  of  Haydon  as  a  little  boy.  He  was  certainly  no 
philosopher  in  petticoats,  but  a  wild,  self-willed,  affectionate 
lad,  uneven  in  spirits,  and  a  great  plague.  He  showed  no 
striking  predilection  for  art.  The  recognition  of  things  by 
their  forms  occupies  a  large  share  of  the  mental  activity 
of  all  children  ;  but   Haydon  does  not  seem  even  to  have 

*  Mv  father  used  to  tell  us  bow  he  remembered  being  taken  on  beard  one  of 
our  fiigatea  docked  for  repairs  after  action,  and  being  pointed  out  the  trace  of  a 
shot  which  had  passed  fore  and  aft,  taking  off  the  heads  of  the  captains  of  several 
guns,  scattering  Mood  and  brains  along  the  beams.  A  beautiful  education  for  a 
child  !  In  17!»8,  after  the  "  Nile,"  he  remembered  meeting  Nelson  on  the  H.  e, 
a  Utile  man  in  a  shabby  cocked  hat,  with  a  green  si  ade  over  one  eye.  The  boy 
took  his  hat  oil,  and  Nelson  returned  the  salute  and  smiled  at  hiin.—  Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


7 


indulged  himself  to  this  extent  in  a  high  degree.  He  was 
pleased  with  prints,  like  most  children — nothing  more.  lib 
earliest  recollection  of  drawing  was  trying  to  copy  a  print  of 
"Louis  the  Sixteenth  (in  his  shirt  sleeves)  taking  leave  of 
his  ,  People,"  and  drawing  a  very  magnificent  officer  of  the 
Guards  w'ho  was  a  visitor  at  the  house.  But  he  remembered 
that  he  put  the  poor  man's  eyes  into  his  forehead,  and  joined 
his  legs  on  to  his  neck.  My  grandfather  laughed  at  him,  and 
the  boy  began  to  observe  more  closely.  But  that  which  first 
developed  his  passion  for  art  was  the  conversation  and  teaching 
of  Dr.  Bidlake,  Head  Master  of  Plymouth  Grammar  School,  to 
which  Haydon  was  sent  in  1792.  Dr.  Bicllake  was  an  able  and 
eccentric  man  of  talent,  who  dabbled  in  poetry  and  painting, 
and  delighted  in  boys  who  showed  taste  for  drawing.  Such  a 
lad  he  found  in  young  Haydon,  and  to  the  development  of  this 
taste  the  good  Doctor  devoted  all  his  energies.*  The  boy  soon 
began  to  draw  correctly ;  and  he  relates  in  his  '  Life '  how  he 
remembered  his  father  saying  one  day  to  my  grandmother, 
"  My  dear,  Colonel  Hawker  likes  the  boy's  drawings."  "  What 
does  he  know  of  drawing?"  said  my  grandmother,  with  that  love 
of  tearing  off  disguises  which  belongs  to  the  sex,  "  What  does 
he  know  ?  "  "  You  know,  my  dear,  he  must  know,"  replied  my 
grandfather,  with  an  emphasis  that  showed  he  no  more  believed 
in  the  Colonel  than  my  grandmother ;  only,  the  Colonel  being 
an  important  man  and  a  good  customer,  he  wished  before  his 
son  to  give  the  Colonel  credit  for  omniscience. 

Meanwhile,  Dr.  Bidlake  passing  lightly  over  all  else,  putting 
no  great  value  on  Propria  quse  maribus  or  as  in  prsesenti,  devoted 
himself  chiefly  to  teaching  the  lad  how  to  observe  the  beauties 
of  nature.    To  young  Haydon  and  a  few  more  of  his  favourite 

*  Worth,  in  his  '  History  of  Plymouth,'  asserts  that  Haydon  was  first  taught 
drawing  by  one  of  my  grandfather's  apprentices,  T.  H.  Williams,  and  that 
Williams  get  his  dU-lnu-e  in  consequence.  I  Ihink  I  have  heard  my  f  ther 
speak  of  Williams,  but  I  doubt  Williams's  teaching  the  boy  to  draw.  Worth 
also  asserts  ihat  Samuel  Piout  taught  him  to  draw.  But.  this" I  never  h.  aid,  and 
I  think  if  it  had  been  so  I  should  have  heard  of  it,  for  Prnut  and  Haydon  corre- 
sponded to  the  last.  Another  assertion  of  Worth,  that  in  1801-2  Haydon  (then 
a  lad  of  sixteen)  wrote  a  'History  of  the  Port  of  Plymoutli '  for  the  'Naval 
Chronicle,'  is  certainly  an  error.  It  was  my  grandfather,  whose  initials  were  the 
same.  Haydon  never  wrote  a  line  for  print." before  1810.  Worth  also  asserts  that 
Maclise  was  one  of  Hiydon's  pupils.  This  must  be  an  error.  Maclise  unfortu- 
nately, as  some  think,  was  never  trained  or  instructed  by  Ha\don.  Indeed  I 
believe  they  never  met  until  one  evening  in  1845  (Gth  December),  when  they 
found  Hi  niselves  sitting  opposite  to  one  another  at  the  hospitable  table  of  the 
late  Judge  Talfourd,  who  there  and  then  made  them  known  to  each  other.— Ed. 


8 


MEMOIR  OF 


pupils  the  good  doctor  would  give  up  much  of  his  spare  time, 
aud  on  fine  days  take  them  up  the  granite  glens  and  wooded 
coombes  shaded  with  birch  and  oak,  and  pointing  out  from 
some  hill-side  the  wide  landscape  of  coppice  and  orchard,  and 
the  village  church  "flinging  the  shadow  of  its  old  antiquity," 
teach  them  how  to  mark  the  scene  and  study  the  beauties 
of  the  sunset  before  them.  In  this  easy  kind  of  school  life  the 
boy  enjoyed  one  great  advantage  that  is  lost  to  us  now.  His 
little  head  was  not  crammed  with  useless  facts  that  he  had 
neither  the  power  nor  the  will  to  turn  to  good  account.  He 
knew,  I  feel  sure,  very  little  of  his  Latin  grammar,  or  of  history, 
but  a  great  deal  of  God's  handywork,  of  light  and  shadow, 
foregrounds  and  backgrounds,  seas,  sunsets,  trees,  and  this,  with 
boating,  fishing,  and  riding,  formed  his  stock  of  knowledge  and 
accomplishments.  Wandering  about  the  green  hills  and 
lovely  coombes  of  Devon  with  the  good  doctor  and  half  a 
dozen  select  pupils  left  his  intellect  to  grow  unexhausted. 
And  there,  sitting  under  jutting  rocks,  or  stretched  on  the 
fresh  turf  with  a  clear  brown  stream  running  at  their  feet, 
dashing  away  into  a  broad  fall  of  foam,  they  passed  school 
days  worthy  of  that  happiness  so  orten  and  so  insincerely 
regretted.  In  after-life  ho  must  have  cast  minya  lingering 
look  behind.  I  think  there  can  be  no  question  it  was  here  the 
boy's  taste  for  poetry  and  painting  first  developed.  The 
pursuits  of  a  life  are  often  enough  influenced  by  a  single  word, 
idly  dropped,  but  here  was  a  boy  led  by  the  example  and 
encouragement  of  his  master  to  the  culture  of  that  taste,  with 
which  he  only  had  discovered  the  boy  was  unconsciously 
endowed.  And  this  mode  of  instruction  and  life  also  developed 
in  him  that  passionate  reverence  for  the  works  of  God  which 
became  such  a  feature  in  his  character  as  a  man.  But  the 
good  doctor  must  not  be  allowed  the  whole  credit  of  Haydon's 
instruction  in  art.  At  the  head  of  the  binding  department  of 
the  business  premises  was  a  Neapolitan,  named  Fenzi.  This 
man  had  remarked  the  young  master's  taste  for  drawing,  and 
was  resolved,  if  he  could,  to  turn  it  into  a  higher  channel  than 
landscape.  Fenzi  got  the  boy's  ear  one  half  holiday,  and 
telling  him  of  the  beauties  of  the  Vatican,  and  of  the  glorious 
works  of  Raphael,  and  of  Michel  Angelo  in  the  Capella 
Sistina,  he  so  excited  the  boy  by  his  eloquent  description  that 
they  became  fast  friends.    The  delight  of  the  boy  was  un- 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


9 


bounded  at  this  new  discovery,  his  curiosity  insatiable.  Every 
spare  hour  was  spent  in  Fenzi's  office,  and  Dr.  Bidlake  was 
deserted.  After  an  exhaustive  description,  Fenzi  would  bare 
his  arm  and  say,  "  Do  not  draw  de  landscape,  draw  de  feegoore, 
Master  Benjamin,"  and  Master  Benjamin  began  to  try. 

And  thus  was  first  awakened  and  then  unconsciously 
strengthened  that  latent  predisposition  which  was  to  disqualify 
Haydon  from  conducting  a  lucrative  business,  and  prove  an 
enigma  and  mortification,  rather  than  a  delight,  to  his  parents 
and  friends. 

After  some  years  of  this  life  the  boy  came  out  at  ten  years 
of  age  full  of  uncertain  thoughts.  Nobody  exactly  knew  what 
to  make  of  him.  His  sister  tells  me  that  at  times  he  was 
reserved  and  thoughtful  to  a  degree,  with  a  tone  of  conversa- 
tion far  beyond  boys  of  his  age,  and  very  much  given  to  draw- 
ing, reading,  and  lonely  wandering.  Every  life  of  every  great 
man  he  could  get  hold  of  he  read  eagerly.  Let  loose  among 
his  father's  books,  he  fed  his  sensibilities  and  excited  his  own 
ambition  by  reading  the  lives  of  ambitious  men.  Not  that  he 
buzzed  about  from  subject  to  subject,  picking  up  a  scrap  here 
and  a  scrap  there,  but  very  leisurely  following  up  the  train  of 
thought  from  book  to  book,  and  pondering  over  what  he  read, 
concentrating  his  mind  upon  one  subject  at  a  time.  Then  he 
would  suddenly  abandon  reading  and  go  about  in  a  reverie  of 
lonely  musing  and  silent  thought,  sitting  on  the  rocks  for  hours 
together,  watching  the  bright  stars  shining  in  the  breathless 
sea.  Then  he  would  have  a  mischievous  freak  and  drive  every- 
one distracted  in  the  house.  But  there  was  one  thing  that 
always  settled  him  steadily  to  work.  If  ever  it  was  brought 
home  to  him  that  he  was  ignorant  of  what  he  really  ought  to 
know,  or  inferior  in  what  he  ought  to  be  superior,  he  set  to 
work  vigorously  to  excel.  His  love  of  excellence  was  touched, 
and  perhaps  his  love  of  distinction,  for  as  early  as  this  17U7-8, 
the  master  passion  of  the  boy  was  to  win  praise  by  excellence 
in  his  work.  And  as  it  was  in  the  beginning,  so  it  was  to 
the  end.  We  shall  see  that  the  basis  of  his  character  was 
thoroughness,  coupled  with  generosity  and  love  of  distinction, 
and  the  older  he  grew  the  more  he  strove  after  the  highest 
excellence  by  self-culture,  often  at  the  expense  of  his  fortune, 
yet  always  in  pursuit  of  a  noble  object.  When  Haydon  got 
praise  he  generally  deserved  it. 


MEMOIR  OF 


Suddenly  in  1797  he  came  out  in  a  new  character.  He  had 
picked  up  the  idea  of  "  Evening  Entertainments."  It  is  possible 
(  harles  Matthews  might  have  been  at  Plymouth,  or  my  grand- 
father might  have  seen  him  in  London.  At  all  events  the  boy 
got  hold  of  the  idea,  and  went  to  work  at  it  with  his  usual  im- 
petuosity, lie  bought  colours  and  brushes,  got  paper  from 
Fenzi,  and,  painting  a  series  of  capital  illustrations,  he  put  up 
a  stage  and  footlights  in  his  mother's  drawing-room,  invited  a 
select  party  to  be  present,  and  gave  an  entertainment  of  extra- 
ordinary "  Adventures,"  which  had  never  happened  to  him, 
illustrating  the  different  incidents  by  his  own  drawings  as  he 
told  his  story.  Here  we  see  the  outline  of  Haydon's  "  Exhibi- 
tion of  Pictures,"  and  Haydon's  "Lectures"  of  later  years. 
His  success  was  unequivocal.  His  good  father  and  mother, 
lucidly  for  his  amusement,  did  not  fully  comprehend  how 
powerful  is  the  influence  of  first  studies  upon  the  formation  of 
character,  nor  how  greatly  is  predisposition  enlarged  by  habit, 
or  they  might  have  subjected  their  boy  to  some  of  the  pressure 
put  upon  Petrarch,  Alfieri,  and  other  young  heroes.  And  for 
my  part  I  venture  to  regret  this  restraint  was  not  put  upon 
him.  For  we  may  depend  upon  it,  such  talent  in  so  young  a 
boy  was  certain  to  be  injudiciously  invested  with  an  exag- 
gerated halo.  Yet  nothing  is  more  absolutely  necessary  in  the 
education  of  children,  gifted  with  a  lively  imagination  and 
sensitive  minds,  to  restrain  rather  than  stimulate  their  imagi- 
nation, or  their  vanity.  The  bent  of  every  child's  mind  should 
be  followed,  but  followed  judiciously.  Every  species  of  flattery 
should  be  carefully  avoided.  And  I  am  hard  enough  to  think 
if,  instead  of  these  evening  exhibitions,  Haydon  had  been  set 
down  to  master  a  problem  in  Euclid,  the  discipline  of  such  a 
course  would  have  been  of  a  far  greater  value  to  him  in  after- 
life than  anything  he  got.  The  object  should  have  been  to 
strengthen  his  self-control,  and  this  is  to  be  done  much  more 
effectually  by  mathematical  or  ethical  studies  than  fond 
parents  can  be  brought  to  believe. 

However,  no  restraint  was  put  upon  the  boy  :  they  never  tried 
to  curb  his  will,  nor  to  teach  him  that  first  and  greatest  of  all 
lessons,  to  try  and  curb  it  himself.  My  grandfather  was  de- 
lighted with  his  boy,  smiled  on  him  approvingly,  and 
watched  his  growing  love  of  self-abstraction  without  a  fear.  In 
order  the  better  to  secure  himself  from  domestic  intrusion 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


1 1 


while  preparing  fresh  scenes  for  new  entertainments,  ITaydon 
now  constructed  a  little  hut  round  the  window  of  one  of  the 
attics  in  his  father's  house.  Here,  like  the  young  Alfieri 
retiring  to  his  cave,  would  the  young  Haydon  secrete  himself 
when  school  was  over,  and  instead  of  preparing  his  next  day's 
lesson,  draw,  paint,  and  "  lecture  "  to  himself  so  long  as  day- 
light lasted.  At  night,  before  going  to  bed,  he  learned  his 
lessons;  at  least  he  always  assured  us  he  did  so.  These  are 
trifles,  but  his  impetuous  industry  in  after-life,  his  passion  for 
excellence  in  his  work,  his  love  of  distinction,  and  the  eminence 
he  attained  in  art,  and  as  a  lecturer  upon  art,  make  them  in- 
teresting. 

But  whatever  his  dominant  passion,  my  grandfather  had 
destined  him  for  business.  It  was  not,  however,  until  my 
grandfather's  comfort  had  been  interfered  with  by  these  even- 
ing entertainments  that  he  appears  to  have  awakened  to  the 
mischief  going  on.  He  had  first  thought  it  was  a  mere  amuse- 
ment ;  now  he  thought  it  looked  serious ;  then  he  became 
alarmed ;  then  filled  with  dismay.  AVhat  did  it  all  mean  ? 
This  seclusion  to  himself;  this  love  for  scenery  and  foot-lights; 
this  painting  all  day.  Surely  the  boy  was  not  going  to  be  a 
play-actor !  The  idea  of  his  son  becoming  an  artist,  a  painter 
by  profession  of  real  pictures  for  exhibition  and  purchase,  was, 
to  my  grandfather,  the  most  improbable  incident  that  could 
occur.  He  intended  the  boy  to  succeed  him  in  the  business, 
and  this  unusual  love  for  "scenery,"  "  exhibitions,"  "  foot-lights," 
and  "  applause,"  was  inconsistent  with  the  character  of  a  busi- 
ness man,  and  must  be  stopped.  Having  himself  suffered  from 
too  great  an  intimacy  with  Art,  and  actresses,  he  thought  it 
the  soundest  morality  to  preach  that  you  should  have  no 
acquaintance  whatever  with  the  liated  things.  My  grandfather, 
in  short,  became  seriously  alarmed.  But  it  was  too  late.  The 
mischief  was  done.  A  boy  who  has  had  his  own  way  unchecked 
for  ten  or  twelve  years  is  not  to  be  broken  then. 

To  an  imaginative  boy  who  did  not  want  ambition  or  vanitv, 
the  continued  applause  of  injudicious  friends  had  already  fixed 
him  in  the  career,  to  which  by  predisposition  and  self-culture 
he  was  irresistibly  attracted.  Nevertheless  my  grandfather 
determined  on  decisive  measures.  These  tendencies  must  be 
counteracted  by  more  strict  discipline.  The  boy  was  forthwith 
(1798)  removed  from  Dr.  Bidlake,  and  sent  away  from  home 


12 


MEMOIR  OF 


influences  to  Plympton,  under  Mr.  Haynes,  a  severe  man  of 
high  reputation  as  a  scholar.  To  Mr.  Haynes  were  given  the 
most  express  instructions  against  all  acting  or  recitals,  or  the 
use  of  pencil  or  paint-brush.  But  that  was  of  little  real  im- 
portance while  pens,  ink,  and  paper  were  to  be  had.  Haydon 
had  not  been  a  week  at  his  new  school  before  he  had  made  pen- 
and-ink  sketches  of  most  of  his  school-fellows,  on  scraps  of 
paper,  in  the  backs  of  books,  behind  the  doors — anywhere  in 
fact — till  at  length  grown  bold  by  impunity,  he  sketched  the 
parish  clerk  at  church  on  Sunday,  to  that  official's  obvious 
indignation.  Then  he  drew  a  hunt  on  the  school-room  wall 
with  burnt  sticks,  then  tried  to  etch,  and  squeezed  off  impres- 
sions with  the  school  ink  in  the  table-cloth  press.  Then  he 
took  upon  himself  to  teach  the  boys  to  draw.  In  short  it  was 
the  old  story  over  again.  The  one  thing  forbidden  he  hankered 
after,  and  always  indulged  in  secretly.  If  Haydon  had  been 
"  saturated "  with  drawing  by  compulsion,  as  the  Russians 
saturate  a  drunkard  with  drams,  he  probably  would  have  thrown 
it  up  for  a  time  in  disgust. 

Haydon  remained  with  Mr.  Haynes  till  1801,  and  completed 
his  education  at  this  school.  In  mathematics  he  was  backward  ; 
but  he  was  well  grounded  in  Latin  and  Greek,  and  wrote  and 
spoke  French  fairly.  Italian  he  afterwards  taught  himself. 
In  English  history  and  general  literature  he  was  well  informed, 
lie  had  worked  hard  to  beat  boys  above  him,  and  had  risen  to 
be  head  boy  of  the  school,  both  by  right  of  learning  and  fighting, 
in  which  latter  quality  he  was  remarkably  proficient.  I  have 
been  told  by  those  who  remembered  him  in  his  school-days  that 
he  was  a  quick-witted,  high-spirited,  generous  boy,  headstrong 
and  imprudent,  but  a  great  favourite,  because  distinguished  in 
the  school  for  his  hatred  of  anything  unjust  or  unfair.  He 
always  defended  the  weak  against  the  strong,  and  having  been 
once  severely  thraslied  by  a  bigger  boy  in  consequence,  he  set 
himself  resolutely  to  improve  his  method  of  lighting.  When 
he  thought  himself  equal  to  the  task,  he  challenged  his  con- 
queror, fought,  and  thrashed  him.  In  much  the  same  way  he 
fought  his  road  up  steadily  step  by  step  to  the  lead  of  the 
school,  which,  when  fairly  won,  was  not  denied  him.  In  after- 
life we  shall  find  him  doing  much  the  same  to  win  the  lead  of 
his  profession.  But  your  claims  are  not  so  readily  admitted  by 
the  world,  which  prefers  to  be  led  by  established  mediocrity. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


i3 


In  1801  he  was  finally  removed  from  school,  and  placed  for 
six  months  under  the  special  charge  of  an  accountant,  at  Exeter, 
for  instruction  in  hook-keeping,  &c.  Haydon  was  now  in  his 
sixteenth  year,  and  up  to  very  recently  was  still  remembered  at 
Exeter,  as  wild  as  an  unbacked  colt.  Everything  there  with 
him  was  in  extremes.  In  love  with  every  pretty  girl  he  met, 
and,  when  he  saw  a  fresh  face,  always  marvelling  at  his  last 
delusion : — 

"Est  mea  nunc  Glycera,  mea  nunc  est  cnra  Lycoris, 
Lida  ruodo  meus  est,  et  modo  Phillis  amor."  * 

Vehement  in  his  antipathies,  warm  in  his  friendships, 
enthusiastic  in  his  love  of  reading,  impassioned  in  his  love  for 
art,  and  irrepressible  in  his  pugnacity,  he  drove  the  good 
accountant  to  his  wits'  end  as  how  to  deal  with  him.  It  seemed 
as  if  all  the  contending  passions  of  all  the  Haydons  for  the 
previous  forty  generations  had  met  in  this  lad,  and  were  by 
turns  to  be  feverishly  indulged.  The  over  wrought  education 
he  had  received  at  home  was  telling  on  him.  But  the  wet 
blanket  was  at  hand.  At  the  end  of  six  months  he  returned 
home,  and  was  formally  installed  in  his  father's  counting-house. 

Now  that  his  school-days  were  over,  and  he  found  himself 
shackled  in  his  liberty,  deprived  of  his  art,  and  brought  face  to 
face  with  business  in  detail,  the  change  was  so  sudden  and  so 
offensive,  his  repugnance  to  the  prospect  grew  daily.  The 
monotonous  nature,  the  uncongenial  direction  of  his  employ- 
ment, the  dull  toil  of  an  uninspired  life  thoroughly  disgusted 
him ;  and  his  Uncle  Cobley,  who  had  become  a  partner  in  the 
business,  took  good  care  not  to  let  the  boy  settle  down  to  it 
comfortably.  He  had  views  of  his  own.  Uncles  sometimes 
have.  My  grandfather,  who  did  not  quite  see  all  that  was 
going  on,  watched  his  son  only,  and  watched  him  curiously. 
P.rovidence  had  blessed  him  with  an  only  son,  but  he  was  full 
of  unintelligible  fancies.  He  had  hoped  the  boy  would  supply 
his  own  deficiencies.  He  promised  to  be  more  defective.  He 
saw  it  all — "  saw  and  pined  his  loss."  He  reasoned  with  him. 
He  showed  him  that  nothing  is  loved  that  is  not  known,  and  if 
in  this  foolish  matter  of  painting  he  would  only  stint  his 
curiosity  for  a  year  or  two,  the  desire  would  leave  him.  He 
had  felt  the  same  at  the  same  age,  and  so  had  his  father  before 


Arlosto,  '  De  Diversis  Amuiibus.'— Ed. 


'4 


MEMOIR  OF 


him,  and  had  not  the  desire  left  them  ?    If  they  had  indulged 
it  to  the  exclusion  of  more  serious  thoughts,  where  would  have 
been  the  great  "  Business  "?    "  When  you  know  yourself  better, 
my  dear  boy,  you  will  laugh  at  these  delusions."    And  then, 
"  would  it  not  be  a  sin  and  a  shame  to  allow  so  fine  a  business 
to  pass  out  of  the  hands  of  its  founders  for  the  mere  want  of  a 
little  self-denial"?    As  this  was  my  grandfather's  particular 
failing,  I  have  no  doubt  he  pressed  it  strongly  on  his  son. 
Finding  that  Nature  had  given  his  son  a  singular  taste  for  dis- 
puting on  most  points,  my  grandfather  gradually  abandoned 
argument  and  tried  force.    "  Who  has  put  this  stuff  into  your 
head  ?  Fenzi  ?     He  shall  be  discharged.     Well,  then,  go  to 
work  and  think  no  more  about  it !"    It  is  evident  to  me  my 
grandfather  had  no  faith  in  the  creative  faculty  of  his  son. 
He  looked  upon  a  great  painter  or  a  great  poet  as  an  excep- 
tional and  unhealthy  creation — beautiful,  but  an   error  of 
Nature.    Men  were  intended  for  employment  and  enjoyment 
— business  and  dinner — and  the  cultivation  of  bad  poets  and 
bad  painters,  though  common  as  bad  cooks,  ought  vigorously 
to  be  repressed  by  all  men  anxious  for  their  country's  good. 
They  should  be  sent  to  sea,  or  put  to  business,  and  made  to 
sticlc  at  it.    This  view  is  practically  sound,  but  it  has  this 
inconvenience:    it   provokes   contradiction,    and  invariably 
brings  disappointment,  particularly  if  the  parental  mentor  is 
insisting  upon  his  child  deriving  a  benefit  from  knowledge 
which  has  never  proved  a  restraint  upon  himself.  Haydon 
knew  that  both  father  and  uncle  had  suffered  from  the  want  of 
that  self  control  they  now  preached,  and  that  they  were  not 
generally  in  the  habit  of  calling  themselves  to  account  for  the 
errors  and  weaknesses  of  their  lives.    That  is  a  medicine  to 
most  of  us,  and  sometimes  "  piercing  and  corrosive."    And  the 
boy  never  having  been  taught  to  curb  his  inclinations,  he 
naturally  preferred  his  own  view  of  life  to  that  which  my 
grandfather  rather  maladroitly  pressed  upon  him.    Thus  dif- 
ferences began  ;  then  came  disagreements ;  then  loss  of  mutual 
love.    Gifted  with  a  high  poetic  temperament,  the  moody 
misery,  the  despair  of  a  spirited  boy  under  a  load  of  bill-books, 
and  black  looks  from  his  father  after  dinner,  and  possibly 
sarcastic  remarks  upon  his  being  "up  in  the  clouds,"  and  the 
infinitesimal  value  of  a  son,  of  whose  superior  knowledge  and 
higher  aims  in  life  the  father  was  a  trifle  jealous,  can  be  easily 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


'5 


imagined  by  sympathetic  minds  Avho  have  similarly  suffered. 
I  believe  it  was  agony  to  the  boy.  To  think  that  all  he  loved 
and  lived  for  was  to  pass  away  from  him,  smothered  under  files 
and  folios  of  growing  accounts !  It  was  simply  unendurable. 
To  his  only  sister  he  poured  forth  his  misery.  At  length  the 
pinch  came.  He  could  bear  it  no  longer,  and  as  he  had  a 
habit  of  always  going  very  straight  at  his  mark,  he  told  his 
father  in  so  many  words  that  he  would  have  "  nothing  more  to 
do  with  the  business."  What  he  would  do  he  did  not  quite 
know ;  but  he  knew  what  he  would  not  do.  This  brought 
matters  to  a  crisis.  Most  families  have  a  crisis  of  the  kind 
sooner  or  later,  all  arising  from  imperfect  education,  and  my 
readers  will  be  quite  prepared  to  hear  that  Haydon  was  sub- 
jected to  much  domestic  criticism,  but  met  with  no  sympathy. 
The  uncles  and  aunts  who  are  always  called  in  on  these  occa- 
sions, and  are  always  ready  to  do  everything  for  you  except  the 
very  thing  you  wish,  appear  to  have  condemned  the  boy's  con- 
duct as  "  ungrateful."  They  were  of  the  opinion  of  Le  Sage 
when  he  apostrophises  the  Knglish  people, — "  with  liberty,  pro- 
perty, and  three  meals  a  clay,  surely  you  are  the  most  unhappy 
people  upon  earth."  But  unfortunately  boys  of  sixteen,  afflicted 
with  that  mortal  restlessness  which  inspires  thoughts  of  high 
design,  do  often  feel  a  natural  unfitness  and  disinclination  for 
the  vulgar  realities  of  business  pursuits,  though  Fortune  be  at 
the  end.  In  the  midst  of  the  crisis  the  boy  fell  ill :  inflam- 
mation attacked  his  eyes,  and  he  lost  his  sight  for  six  weeks. 
When  he  rallied  he  had  greatly  lost  his  natural  sight,  and  was 
ever  after  compelled  to  wear  spectacles.  Some  of  the  family 
regarded  this  as  a  judgment  of  Providence  for  his  ingratitude. 
But  it  never  struck  Haydon  in  this  light,  nor  in  any  other  than 
that,  if  he  succeeded  in  his  art  without  his  natural  sight  he 
would  be  the  first  painter  who  had  done  so.  Here  was  a  touch 
of  that  simple  courage  that  was  in  him. 

As  soon  as  his  health  was  recovered,  his  father  anti- 
cipated that  now  the  boy's  natural  sight  being  gone  too  far 
for  art,  he  would  be  glad  enough  to  return  to  the  office.  But 
again  he  was  to  be  perplexed.  Haydon  accidentally  met  with 
a  volume  of '  Sir  Joshua  Beynolds's  Discourses.'  He  read  one, 
and  finding  Beynolds  express  a  strong  conviction  that  all  men 
are  equal  in  capacity,  and  that  application  makes  the  difference, 
Haydon  made  up  his  mind,  in  spite  of  his  loss  of  sight,  to  be  a 


[6 


MEMOIR  OF 


Painter.  He  could  see  well  enough  to  read  near,  and  so  to 
draw,  and  if  to  draw,  to  paint.  W  hat  more  was  requisite  his 
industry  should  supply.  He  took  the  book  to  bed  with  him, 
passed  a  sleepless  night,  acted  over  and  over  again  the  scene 
he  intended  to  play  at  breakfast  next  morning,  and  falling 
asleep  at  daylight,  nearly  lost  his  chance  of  both.  Jn  the 
midst  of  breakfast  he  appeared,  his  toilet  showing  evident 
marks  of  haste, '  Reynolds's  Discourses  '  under  his  arm,  his  eyes 
wild  with  want  of  rest  and  excitement.  He  opened  the  cam- 
paign by  briefly  stating  his  wish  to  go  to  London  and  enter  the 
Uoyal  Academy  as  a  student !  If  he  had  dropped  a  shell  on 
the  breakfast  table  he  could  not  have  astounded  the  family- 
more.  His  Uncle  Cobley,  his  great  opponent,  stopped  cracking 
his  egg,  gazed  dubiously  into  the  boy's  face  to  see  if  any  intel- 
lects were  there,  raised  his  eyebrows,  and  being  a  very  powdered 
and  precise  man,  wiped  his  mouth  twice  with  his  napkin ;  then, 
leaning  back  in  his  chair,  he  looked  across  at  my  grandfather, 
and  with  a  loud  "  a-hem,"  waited  for  the  result.  My  grand- 
father put  down  his  cup  and  said,  "Eh — what  ?"  The  boy, 
quivering  with  excitement,  repeated  his  wishes.  "  Pooli ! 
nonsense,"  said  my  grandfather.  "  Nonsense,"  repeated  Uncle 
Cobley  in  a  firm  voice,  and  went  on  with  his  egg.  Then  my 
grandfather  laughed,  then  lost  his  temper;  and  my  grand- 
mother beginning  to  cry,  in  ten  minutes  the  whole  house  was 
in  an  uproar.    Uncle  Cobley  finished  his  breakfast. 

In  the  course  of  the  day,  Uncle  Cobley  said,  "  the  boy 
must  be  mad,"  and  that  was  the  only  opinion  he  was  ever 
heard  to  express.  He  probably  thought  it  the  surest  card  to 
play  to  lead  his  nephew  out  of  the  business. 

For  six  months  longer  the  young  Haydon  had  to  fight  his 
way  against  the  daily  badgering  and  baiting  of  the  whole 
family  but  his  mother  and  sister.  From  these  only  did  he 
get  any  sympathy,  and  for  that  he  bore  them  in  the  most 
affectionate  remembrance  all  his  life.  His  mother  went 
further.  She  gave  him  sound  counsel,  suh  nsa,  and  bade  him 
never  to  surrender  his  rights  as  the  heir  of  his  father.  She 
seems  to  have  had  a  presentiment  of  her  own  early  death,  and 
to  have  distrusted  her  brother.  In  order  to  show  that  he  was 
in  earnest,  Haydon  went  to  a  sale  and  bought  a  valuable  copy 
of  Albinus — which  he  had  the  audacity  to  leave  the  "business" 
to  pay  for — and  retiring  to  his  hut,  set  to  work  learning  the 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


17 


origin  and  insertion  of  the  muscles  of  the  human  form.  This 
was  a  sound  idea. 

The  domestic  struggle  between  father  and  son  had  lasted 
now  nearly  two  years,  and  it  was  time  to  bring  it  to  a  close. 
But  neither  side  would  give  in :  the  son,  arguing  that  all 
petty  considerations  of  money  and  business  should  yield  to  the 
gratification  of  his  high  ambition,  feeling  within  himself  the 
energy  to  carry  out  his  views  if  he  were  only  supported  for  a 
few  years;  the  father,  like  all  weak  men  without  nerve,  obstinate 
in  the  wrong  place,  resenting  the  whole  proposal  as  a  delusion 
and  a  folly,  and  insisting  upon  his  son  following  the  course  he 
had  prescribed  for  him,  and  no  other,  instead  of  finding  out 
what  really  was  his  bent.  This  question  of  parental  authority 
is  of  course  a  debateable  question.  But  'prima  facie,  though  a 
father's  authority  is  not  to  be  lightly  set  aside,  a  boy's  own 
will  is  rather  a  sacred  thing,  and  any  aggression  upon  that 
will  no  light  matter,  assuming  of  course  that  the  object  desired 
is  desirable  in  itself.  My  own  experience  of  life  tells  me  that 
it  is  best  to  give  in  to  a  boy's  bent,  and  to  throw  upon  him  tho 
responsibility  of  never  repenting  of  your  generosity.  It  is  for 
him  to  take  care  of  that.  My  grandfather  seems  at  the  last  to 
have  arrived  at  this  conclusion.  To  further  oppose  this  half- 
blind,  earnest,  and  enthusiastic  lad  might  lead  to  some  real 
mischief,  and  not  make  a  business  man  of  him  after  all. 

So  at  length  it  was  agreed — partly,  I  am  inclined  to  think, 
by  the  gentle  persuasion  of  my  grandmother,  though  it  grieved 
her  fond  heart  to  part  with  him — that  the  boy  should  be  allowed 
to  go  up  to  London  and  study  at  the  Royal  Academy  for  two 
years  on  trial.  Inquiries  were  made ;  lodgings  were  taken 
(348,  Strand);  and  one  fine  May  evening  (14th  May,  1801), 
Haydon,  with  all  that  eager  feeling  of  immortality  peculiar  to 
youth,  left  his  home.  All  that  day,  however,  he  had  hung 
about  his  mother  with  a  fluttering  at  the  heart  in  which  duty, 
affection,  and  ambition  were  struggling  for  the  mastery.  As 
evening  approached  he  missed  her;  presently  the  guard's  horn 
announced  the  coming  mail ;  he  rushed  upstairs  calling  her 
dear  name,  and  was  answered  only  by  violent  sobbings  from 
his  own  bedroom.  She  could  not  bear  to  see  him  ;  he  could 
just  make  out,  "  God  bless  you,  my  dear  child."  The  guard 
became  impatient ;  the  boy  returned  slowly  downstairs,  his 
heart  very  full,  shook  his  father  by  the  hand,  took  his  seat 

vol.  1.  o 


MEMOIR  OF 


quickly ;  the  coachman  cracked  his  whip,  the  horses  sprung 
forward,  and  Haydon's  stormy  career  in  life  was  begun.  My 
grandfather  naturally  went  back  to  his  room,  took  out  his 
diary,  and  entered  the  fact: — "14th  May. — Ben  started  for 
London.    Weather  fine.    Wind  east." 

In  the  previous  eighteen  months'  domestic  purgatory  Haydon 
had  undergone  he  had  made  himself  master  of  the  anatomy  of 
the  human  form,  and  he  had  framed  out  a  certain  two  years' 
course  of  study  before  he  should  consider  himself  fitted  to 
paint.  This  shows  what  clear  views  he  had  already  formed 
upon  his  art,  and  to  some  extent  explains  the  means  by  which 
he  acquired  his  professional  superiority  so  rapidly ;  it  was  by 
the  sound  and  extensive  knowledge  of  the  human  form  and  by 
his  extraordinary  facility  of  drawing  which  this  course  of  study 
gave.  W  hatever  difference  there  may  be  as  to  the  necessity 
or  convenience  of  Haydon's  course  of  art-instruction,  there  can 
be  none  as  to  the  knowledge  you  gain  of  internal  and  external 
construction,  and  of  the  complete  mastery  which,  in  conse- 
quence of  such  a  course  of  training,  he  at  least  won  over  his 
own  hand  and  eye. 

Haydon  in  1804  was  just  in  his  nineteenth  year;  a  slim, 
handsome,  inquisitive  lad,  with  aquiline  features,  a  ruddy  com- 
plexion, a  fierce  azure  grey  eye,  and  black  curly  hair,  and 
exulting  in  what  Erasmus  calls  '•  basilea,  athletica,  pancratiea 
valetudine  " — a  healthfulness  of  mind  and  body  which  excited 
him  to  rise  superior  to  circumstances,  and  win  reward  by  the 
force  alone  of  his  industry  and  genius. 

With  the  animal  instincts  strong  within  him,  with  a  hand- 
some person,  and  with  means  at  his  command,  his  parents  may 
well  be  excused  if  they  felt  some  apprehension  of  what  his 
career  would  be  in  that  great  City  of  London,  the  grave  of 
young  reputations.  But  Haydon  never  seems  to  have  given 
his  parents  one  moment's  uneasiness  in  this  respect.  His 
strong  domestic  affections  proved  a  valuable  safeguard,  and  he 
was  by  habit  and  nature  so  robust  in  his  temperance  as  to  be 
able  to  rise  above  evil  influences.  He  sought  no  society.  He 
went  straight  to  his  lodgings,  unpacked  his  Albinus  and  his 
drawings,  bought  Bell's  book  on  Anatomy  and  a  few  casts, 
aul  at  once  began  his  studies.  For  six  months  he  thus 
worked  alone  and  incessantly,  day  and  night,  rising  early  and 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


19 


going  late  to  bed,  and  with  short  intervals  for  meals,  devoting 
himself  wholly  to  drawing  from  the  round,  heads,  hands  and  feet, 
and  to  making  careful  anatomical  studies  for  his  future  guidance 
in  art.  So  intent  was  he  upon  training  his  eye  and  hand  into 
accurate  drawing  that  he  never  delivered  his  letters  of  introduc- 
tion, and  rarely  answered  those  of  inquiry  from  home.  "  What 
is  Benjamin  about  that  he  never  writes?"  asked  his  father 
of  one  of  the  Cobleys,  who  had  just  returned  from  London. 
"  Oh,  he  is  mad — certainly — no  doubt  about  it !  "  said  Cobley. 
"  I  found  him  lying  on  the  floor  studying  anatomy,  with  Albinus 
before  him  —he  is  certainly  mad  ! "  But  there  was  considerable 
method  in  the  boy's  madness,  which  it  is  not  always  given  to 
the  Cobleys  of  a  family  to  see.  The  gift  of  discrimination  is 
uncommon  in  families  one  towards  another.  Mad  or  not,  the 
boy  continued  to  work  at  his  task  before  him.  It  was  an 
intense  one,  but  a  task  that  was  done.  Young  as  he  was,  he 
looked  on  his  art  as  anything  but  ah  amusement,  or  as  a  mere 
money-making  trade.  To  him  it  was  already  an  inspiration 
from  God,  a  serious  work  by  which  the  minds  of  the  people 
were  to  be  fed  by  lessons  of  wisdom  and  of  truth,  and  the 
nation  led  to  moral  and  material  success.  In  most  other 
young  men  this  would  have  been  ridiculous  presumption.  To 
men  like  Haydon  it  was  a  creed.  Me  was  already  revolving  in 
his  mind  vast  schemes  of  art  reform,  and  was  selecting  sacred 
and  historical  subjects  he  would  paint  for  his  purpose.*  He 

*  The  li.,t  is  cuiious,  and  shows  what  ambitious  projects  filled  the  mind  of  this 
boy  of  nineteen.  It  contains  in  all  thirty-eigut  subjects.  The  titleo  of  some  are 
no  longer  legible : — 

1.  '  Achilles  aiming  for  Battle.' 

2.  'Milton  playing  on  his  Organ— b'.ind.' 

3.  'Aaron  appeasing  the  Almightv.' 

4.  'Christ  foretelling  the  Uestmci'ion  of  Jerus.dem.' 

5.  'S;imson  pulling  down  the  PhiUti  ies.' 

6.  'Adam  reconciling  Eve  after  her  Dream.' 

7.  'The  Spirit  of  Cesar  appearing  to  Brutus' 

8.  'A  Woman  contemplating  the  Body  of  a  Man  she  has  just  murdered.* 

9.  '  Scene  in  a  Mad-house.' 

10.  'Ugolino.' 

11.  'The  Judgment  of  Paris.' 

12.  'Christ  appearing  to  His  Disciples  at  Sea.' 

13.  'Ciuist  disappearing  from  Eiumaus.' 

14.  'The  Crucifixion.' 

15.  'The  Judgment  of  Solomon.' 

It!.  'A  Mother  dadiing  down  a  Precipice  with  her  Child,  on  escaping  from  the 

Murder  of  the  Innocents  -that  in  the  background 
17  'Hercules  recovering  his  Senses,  and  finding  his  Family  murdered  by 

his  bide.'  [18.  'Antigone 

u  2 


21 


MEMOIR  OF 


did  not  desire,  as  it  has  been  erroneously  attributed  to  him,  to 
restore  Greek  work,  but  to  ascertain  by  research  the  principles 
upon  which  the  Greeks  reached  such  excellence  in  their  art, 
and  to  try  to  equal,  if  not  to  surpass  them.  The  English 
painters,  he  had  found  out,  never  dissected  man  or  animal. 
They  trusted  to  their  skill  and  to  their  practice  to  hide  their 
ignorance,  and  they  habitually  painted  from  memory.  The 
Greek  painters  he  believed  to  have  mastered  anatomy,  and 
always  to  have  painted  with  nature  before  them.  Michel 
Angelo,  it  was  as  well  known,  had  dissected  both  men  and 
animals,  as  that  lxaphael  had  not,  and  that  Eaphael  had  re- 
gretted his  neglect  of  anatomy,  and  striven  hard  by  its  practice 
and  study  in  his  latter  years  to  overcome  this  inferiority.  With 
this  evidence  before  him,  Haydon  felt  confident  that  the 
anatomical  course  he  was  then  pursuing  was  correct.  He  was 
resolved  "to  make  the  knife  accompany  the  pencil,"  and  always 
to  paint  from  a  living  model.  After  many  months'  application 
his  health  began  to  suffer,  and  then  he  bethought  him  of  his 
letters  of  introduction. 

18.  'Antigone  and  her  Mother  and  murdered  Brother.' 
VJ.  'The  Amusements  of  tne  Warriors  before  Theb  s.' 

20.  'Chiron  holding  out  young  Aehi.les  to  his  Father,  as  he  sails  by  on  the 

Argonautic  Expedition.' 

21.  'Orpheus  amusing  them  with  his  Lyre.' 

22.  'Theodore  and  Uonoria  hunting  in  the  Woods— Sun  setting.' 

23.  'The  Philistines  destioyed  by  God,  as  they  are  marching  to  attack  tho 

Isiaelites.' 

24.  'The  liaising  of  Lazarus.' 

25.  'The  Assassination  of  Dentatus.' 

26.  '  Joseph  and  Mary  resting  on  their  road  to  Egypt.' 
27. 

28.  '  The  Entombing  of  Christ.' 
29. 

30.  'Lear  bidding  defiance  to  the  Storm.* 

31.  'Christ  brought  before  Pilate.' 

32.  'Achilles  shouting  to  the  Grecians.' 

33.  'Andromache  taking  a  last  lingering  look  after  Hector,  as  if  she  dreaded 

sorn^  ill.' 

34.  'Our  Saviour  telling  the  young  Man  to  give  all  he  has  to  the  Poor,  and 

follow  Him.'  There  cannot  be  a  finer  subj.  ct,  or  o:io  that  has  more 
point. 

35.  'Duncan's  Murder.'    The  door  open,  Lady  Macbeth  seen  list,  ning,  her 

shadow  against  the  wall;  or, 
3G.  'Lady  Macbeth  on  the  foot  of  the  Staircase,'  saying.  "He  is  about  it.'* 
Upon  the  top  of  the  stairs  the  door  half  open,  lamp  outside,  looking 
into  Duncan's  cl  amb  r. 

37.  'The  Woman  defending  Saragossa.* 

38.  'And  "When  they  had  sung  a  hymn,  they  went  out  unto  the  Mount  of 

Olives." ' 

Of  these  thirty-eight  subji-cts  Haydon  lived  only  to  complete  nine  or  ten,  so 
great  is  the  space  between  our  ambition  and  our  deeds.— Ed. 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


21 


It  is  important  to  mark  here  that  Haydon  had  settled  his 
leading  principles  of  art  before  he  had  seen  Fuseli,  Opie,  or 
Northcote, — viz.,  that  the  human  form  was  the  basis  of  all  true 
art,  beauty,  and  science  in  design ;  that  knowledge  of  the 
human  form  must  be  first  mastered  with  reverence  and  re- 
search, as  the  preliminary  step  ;  that  dissection  is  the  true 
basis  of  the  arts  of  design ;  that  when  you  can  draw  the 
human  figure  and  its  parts,  you  can  draw  anything  compe- 
tently: and  when  you  have  mastered  this  practical  skill,  then 
you  may  begin  to  think,  then  you  may  take  up  geometry  and 
perspective ;  after  two  years'  thorough  practice  in  all,  then  you 
may  begin  to  paint,  but  not  before,  and  then  always  paint  from 
Nature  before  you. 

Of  these  principles  he  had  laid  hold  out  of  what  he  had  learned 
from  Fenzi  of  the  principles  and  practice  of  the  great  Italian 
masters,  and  with  intense  insight,  distinguishing  what  is  essen- 
tial from  what  is  not,  Haydon  had  framed  for  himself  a  code 
of  instruction,  in  which  all  subsequent  experience  confirmed 
him,  which  he  applied  with  the  utmost  success  to  his  pupils 
Eastlake,  the  Landseers,  Bewick,  Prentis,  Chatfield,  Harvey, 
and  others,  and  never  departed  from  for  the  rest  of  his  life. 
His  merit  here  appears  to  me  of  the  greatest:  for  there  can 
be  no  question  that  Haydon's  principles,  are  well  founded  and 
true,  and  the  more  painters  follow  them  the  better  they  will 
succeed  in  art  and  design,  whether  they  only  paint  down  "  to 
the  fifth  button-hole,"  as  Hazlitt  used  to  say,  or  strive  for 
something  nobler  and  higher. 

The  first  person  he  called  upon  was  Northcote,  the  painter, 
the  pupil  of  Sir  Joshua  Keynolds, — a  shrewd,  keen  man,  with 
considerable  experience  in  the  art  and  of  the  world,  and  with 
a  power  of  insinuating  suspicion  and  distrust  such  that,  had  he 
lived  in  the  early  ages,  he  would  have  sown  dissension  be- 
tween Castor  and  Pollux.  Northcote,  like  his  master,  had  tried 
High  Art,  and,  like  him  and  Flaxman  and  Fuseli,  had  found  by 
a  sad  experience  how  little  real  sympathy  there  was  among  the 
patrons  and  nobility  of  England  for  moral,  poetic,  or  historical 
subjects.  They  did  not  understand  High  Art,  they  did  not 
want  it,  and  they  would  not  encourage  it.  We  need  not, 
therefore,  feel  surprise  at  what  followed.  Northcote  read  the 
letter,  and  eyed  the  boy  suspiciously.  "  Zo  ye  mayne  to  bee 
a  peintur,  doo  ee ;  and  whaat  zort  of  peintur  ?  "    "  Historical 


MEMOIR  OF 


painter,  sir."  "  Hees-torical  peintur !  "  raising  his  eyebrows  ; 
"  why,  yee'll  staarve — with  a  bundle  o'  streaw  under  yer 
heead."  'J  his  was  not  encouraging  from  so  distinguished 
an  authority.  "  Aand  Meester  Hoare  zays  yeere  stoodyin' 
aanatomie.  Thaat's  no  euse.  Sir  Joshua  deedn't  kneow  it — 
why  sheuld  yew  waant  to  kneow  whaat  hee  deedn't?"  "But 
Michel  Angelo  did,  sir."  "  Michel  Angelo  !  "  screamed  the 
little  man— "  Michel  Angelo  !  whaat's  hee  got  tu  du  heere  ? 
Ye  must  peint  pertreits  heere."  "  But  I  won't,  sir."  "  Ve 
waant.    Ye  must." 

Opie  was  more  favourable.  "  You  are  studying  anatomy  ?  " 
said  he.  "Master  it.  If  I  were  your  age,  I  would  do  the 
same."  "  lint  Mr.  Northcote  says  it's  of  no  use,  sir.''  "  ^Ncver 
mind  what  lie  says,"  replied  Opie;  "he  doesn't  know  it  him- 
self, and  would  be  glad  to  keep  you  as  ignorant."  In  answer 
to  the  question  as  to  whether  he  ought  to  put  himself  under  a 
master,  Opie  said,  "  Certainly,  it  will  shorten  your  road.  It  is 
the  only  way."  The  next  (lay  the  boy  took  his  drawings  to 
Northcote,  who  laughed  "like  an  imp."  "Yee'll  make  a  good 
engraver  indeed,"  said  he.  "  Do  you  think,  sir,  I  ought  to  be 
a  pupil  to  anybody?"  "No,"  said  Northco'e;  "who  is  to 
teach  'ee  heere?  It  will  be  throwing  your  father's  money 
away."  "  Mr.  Opie,  sir,  says  I  ought  to  be."  "Hee  zays  so, 
does  hee?  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  Hee  waants  your  vather's  money."  The 
lad  on  this  drew  his  own  conclusions,  and  acted  upon  them. 
He  went  on  with  his  anatomical  studies,  and  he  did  not  take  a 
master.  Smirke,  the  father  of  Sir  K.  Smirke,  warmly  en- 
couraged the  boy,  lent  him  drawings,  and  advised  him  to 
pursue  the  course  he  had  marked  out  for  himself.  Fuseli, 
Keeper  of  the  Royal  Academy,  received  him  with  great  kind- 
ness, looked  at  his  drawings,  praised  them  highly,  and  said,  «■  I 
am  Keeper  of  the  Academy.  I  hope  to  see  you  the  first  night," 
Accordingly,  on  the  opening  night  after  Christmas  1804,  Hay- 
don  entered  the  Koyal  Academy  School  as  a  student,  I  am 
told  he  was  very  short-sighted,  very  diligent,  and  very  fond  of 
a  good  romp.  One  of  the  students  once  insulted  him  — it 
would  be  invidious  to  mention  his  name — and  Haydon  thrashed 
nim  then  and  there,  within  an  inch  of  his  life.  I  am  not  quite 
sure  he  was  not  near  expulsion  for  this,  but  he  certainly  was 
not  expelled.  West,  the  President,  coming  round  one'  day, 
highly  praised  the  boy's  drawing  of  the  Discobolos.  With 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


2.3 


Fuseli,  Hayclon  became  intimate.  Fuseli  found  in  the  boy  the 
same  passionate  love  fur  art  and  literature,  the  same  delight  in 
the  terrible  and  sublime,  as  he  felt  himself,  and  he  took  him 
to  his  heart.    I  believe  he  was  really  very  proud  of  him. 

It  would  have  been  no  loss,  I  think,  to  Hayclon  if  he  had 
seen  less  of  Fuseli  at  this  critical  period  of  his  artist  life.  Yet 
no  one,  even  thus  early,  saw  and  marked  the  defects  of  Fuseli's 
frenzied  extravagance  of  style  more  clearly.  He  writes  (1805) : 
"  Fuseli  knows  full  well  he  is  wrong  as  to  truth  of  imitation. 
A  man  has  no  more  right  to  dislocate  an  arm  and  call  it  the 
*  Grand  style,'  than  he  would  have  to  put  six  toes  on  a  foot 
and  call  it  '  Nature  as  she  ought  to  be.'  We  have  no  business 
to  make  Nature  as  she  never  was.  We  may  restore  her  to  what 
she  was  at  her  first  creation ;  but  if  this  be  not  done  with  truth, 
mankind  will  turn  away,  let  the  conceptions  conveyed  be  ever 
so  sublime  or  beautiful."  Later  on,  in  1812,  he  writes  again: 
"The  more  I  see  of  Nature,  the  more  I  see  of  rJapkael,  the 
more  I  abhor  Fuseli's  mind,  his  subjects,  his  manner.  Let  me 
root  his  pictures  from  my  fancy  for  ever."  Indeed,  at  this 
time  the  English  Historical  School  was  at  a  very  low  ebb. 
Two  pictures  by  West,  one  or  two  by  Fuseli,  with  one  by  Opie, 
and  another  by  Sir  Joshua,  were  the  Historic  masterpieces  of 
the  age.  They  could  have  been  hung  in  one  room  of  moderate 
dimensions.  West,  the  leader  and  President  of  the  Academy, 
though  he  has  added  to  the  art  of  the  world  by  his  'Wolfe' 
and  '  La  Hogue,'  had  no  elevation  of  thought,  no  deep  know- 
ledge  of  drawing,  no  expression,—"  His  heads  are  like  masks," 
wrote  Horace  \\  alpole, — and,  he  had  no  colour.  He  will 
not  rank  beyond  one  of  the  maehinisti.  "  How  do  you  like 
West?"  asked  Haydon  of  Canova,  in  1815.  "  Comme  qa," 
replied  Canova.  "  Au  moins,"  said  Haydon,  "  il  compose 
bien."  "  Non,  monsieur*,  non,"  replied  Canova,  "  il  ne  compose 
pas,  il'  met  des  modeles  en  groupe."  And  that  is  the  effect  his 
pictures  have.  They  are  groups  of  academical  models  care- 
fully posed.  It  is  like  sign-painting  of  a  superior  style.  When 
Haydon  saw  what  a  narrow  minded  uniformity  distinguished 
the  Exhibition  of  the  Koyal  Academy,  and  the  predominance  ol 
portrait,  and  how  feeble  and  mechanical  the  art  had  become 
since  the  days  of  Sir  Joshua — imagination,  in  1805,  was  in 
its  decrepitude — he  naturally  turned  to  the  Old  Masters  for 
help  and  comparison,  and  the  careful  study  of  their  works  kept 


24 


MEMOIR  OF 


him  to  the  true  correctness  of  his  ideal.  It  is  possible,  with 
the  weakness  of  a  strong  mind,  he  felt  himself  better  than  the 
Institution  he  was  attached  to,  and  was  not  unwilling  to  talk  a 
little  too  openly  of  the  removal  of  hindrances.  It  seems  cer- 
tain that,  thus  early,  he  and  Fuseli  often  discussed  matters 
privately,  and  that  he  learned  from  Fuseli  to  regard  with  alarm 
the  increasing  ascendency  in  the  Academy  of  trading  portrait 
painters,  whose  only  pleasure  in  their  art  was  the  money  they 
could  make  out  of  it,  but  whose  authority  was  undoubted.  In 
fact,  the  state  and  prospects  of  high  art  in  England  at  that 
moment  were  forlorn.  The  administration  of  public  affairs, 
upon  which  High  Art  relies,  was  entirely  in  the  hands  of  a 
few  great  families.  But  which  family  was  "  in  "  or  which 
was  "  out."  mattered  little  enough  to  Art,  Literature,  or 
Science.  All  changes  of  administration,  so  far  as  these  were 
concerned,  were  of  no  importance.  Somebody  went  out  for 
somebody  else  to  come  in,  for  which  nobody  was  the  better. 
Then  these  "  families  "  had  a  low  conception  of  what  patronage 
for  art  really  meaned.  The  best  of  them — those  who,  in  public 
opinion,  held  the  first  place  as  lovers  of  art — were  not  re- 
markable for  their  depth  or  breadth  of  view  upon  the  subject. 
They  loved  art  so  far  as  it  contributed  to  their  pleasures,  but 
they  had  no  notion  of  the  public  function  of  art.  They  col- 
lected foreign  pictures,  and,  like  the  Eomans  of  old,  formed 
galleries  in  competition  with  one  another.  The  same  rivalry 
that  we  witness  now  amongst  our  wealthy  classes,  for  "  marks  of 
superiority,"  went  on  amfong  the  nobility  seventy  years  since  in 
the  matter  of  pictures,  just  as  it  had  gone  on  among  the 
Romans  two  thousand  years  before.  The  bare  possession  of  a 
Greek  painting  of  character  and  name  was  considered  as  much 
a  title  to  distinction  by  a  Roman  collector,  as  the  possession  of 
a  Correggio  or  a  Titian  by  an  English  connoisseur;  and  as  the 
Romans  in  their  day  neglected  and  despised  their  own  native 
art  for  foreign  specimens,  so  did  the  English  nobility.  Both 
alike  held  a  secret  belief  that,  until  a  man  had  been  shut  up 
in  his  urn  or  screwed  down  in  his  coffin  for  a  few  centuries,  it 
was  impossible  what  he  had  painted  could  be  worth  looking  at. 
After  walking  through  the  galleries  of  Europe,  our  nobility 
came  home  with  a  contempt  for  English  art,  in  proportion 
to  their  preference  for  works  by  dead  Dutchmen  and  buried 
Italians.     They  might  as  well  have  professed  a  competent 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


25 


knowledge  of  botany  by  walking  through  different  gardens. 
"  We  do  not  want  English  high  art,"  said  a  Duke  of  Northum- 
berland, haughtily,  "  we  want  foreign  specimens."  This  ex- 
actly expressed  their  feeling.  Like  the  boy  in  the  Irish  tale, 
they  pushed  aside  their  own  golden  guineas  to  prefer  the 
debased  copper  to  which  they  had  accustomed  themselves. 

The  only  exhibition  of  native  art  in  those  days  was  the 
annual  exhibition  by  the  Koyal  Academy,  then  at  Somerset 
House.  In  1805  the  British  Institution  also  opened  an  exhibi- 
tion, but  the  English  painters  who  met  with  the  patronage 
and  support  of  the  great  families  were  the  portrait  painters. 
These  formed  a  large  majority  of  the  members  of  the  Koyal 
Academy,  and  occupied  at  the  tables  of  the  great  the  position 
of  the  parson  in  Fielding's  time.  I  say  this  without  meaning 
offence,  but  because  it  is  true,  and  had  great  influence  upon 
Haydon's  prospects  and  career.  With  a  body  of  privileged 
artists  so  placed,  the  fear  and  fawning  of  the  hungry  lay- 
artists  (not  Academicians)  can  be  easily  understood.  The 
forty  Academicians  held  all  the  honours,  and  nearly  all  the 
gains  of  the  profession  in  their  grasp,  and  they  fed  daily  at  the 
tables  of  the  great.  By  these  means  the  Academicians  had 
come  to  exercise  an  influence  over  the  profession  like  that  of  the 
Captains  of  the  Wards  in  Florence  in  1357-G6,  "  whom  every- 
body honoured,"  says  Machiavelli,  "  for  fear  of  being  admon- 
ished." Placed  in  such  a  position,  it  is  not  surprising  that  a 
desire  to  please  their  rich  patrons  should  come  in  time  to  be 
exchisively  considered  by  Academicians  to  the  neglect  of  the 
principal  object  of  their  institution,  viz.,  the  training  and 
education  of  all  classes  in  the  true  principles  of  art  and  design. 
This  desire  to  please  the  patron,  this  submission  to  his  wishes, 
would  seem  to  be  a  mischief  that  waits  upon  the  portrait 
painter.  And  how  serious  a  mischief  this  is  for  art,  the  por- 
traits by  our  Royal  Academicians  for  the  last  seventy  years 
will  attest.  "  When  a  body  of  painters,"  says  Niebuhr,  "  places 
above  itself  an  uninstructed  public,  and  that  of  rich  patrons 
whom  they  strive  to  please,  only  one  result  can  follow — the  tone 
of  the  artists  will  hs  lowered  and  their  art  degraded."  That  it  was 
a  sorry  servility  of  this  kind  by  which  the  Royal  Academy  of 
]  was  infected  is  matter  of  fact.  The  Academicians  agreed 

with  their  patrons'  opinion,  instead  of  giving  them  their  own ; 
and  thus,  while  they  stooped  to  flatter  and  please,  an  ignorant 


MEMOIR  OF 


nobility  enjoyed  the  gratification  of  being  considered  authori- 
ties upon  art,  w  ithout  the  necessity  of  knowing  anything  about 
it.  The  result  was  what  Haydon  saw,  and  Fuseli  deplored. 
On  Haydon's  arrival  in  London  in  1804,  the  Royal  Academy 
had  been  established  some  forty  years.  It  had  hoarded  large 
funds,  yet  it  had  never  founded  one  single  school  of  design. 
Its  annual  expenditure  in  dinners,  wines,  and  pensions  exceeded 
that  which  it  gave  for  the  art  education  of  its  students  in 
Italy ;  and  the  members  of  the  Academy,  who  in  the  last  cen- 
tury had  shared  in  the  intellectual  efforts  of  the  day,  were,  in 
1805,  ceasing  to  belong  to  an  intellectual  class  at  all.  Their 
art  was  falling  into  the  vulgar  and  commonplace.  It  had  no 
inspiration,  it  had  little  drawing,  and  it  was  seriously  defective 
in  technical  excellence.  In  short,  the  Royal  i^cademy  of  1804-12 
was  in  the  fever  of  decay,  which  rendered  it  irritable,  arbitrary, 
and  suspicious,  in  proportion  to  its  debility.  Between  1805 
and  1812,  Wilkie,  Collins,  Jackson,  Haydon,  Fuseli,  Chantrey, 
Soane,  and  others,  often  discussed  and  bewailed  this  degra- 
dation of  their  beautiful  art.  They  all  attributed  it,  more 
or  less,  to  the  same  cause,  viz ,  the  power  vested  in  Royal 
Academicians  of  self-election  for  life,  which  virtually  is  power 
independent  of  qualification,  and  without  responsibility.  And 
they  all  agreed,  so  far  as  I  can  understand,  that  inferior  men 
getting  possession  of  this  power  persistently  applied  it  to  their 
own  narrow  purposes,  rather  than  in  upholding  the  principles  of 
an  Institution  then  falling  into  disrepute  by  reason  of  these 
vices. 

The  offence  is  common  enough  in  every  society  that  elects 
itself  for  life,  and,  when  elected,  secures  irresponsible  posses- 
sion of  privilege  and  power.  It  was  not  that  the  Royal 
Academicians  of  those  days,  any  more  than  of  these,  entirely 
kept  out  men  of  merit.  Then,  as  now  ,  they  were  occasionally 
found  on  the  side  of  public  opinion.  But  the  general  result 
was  an  Academy  filled  with  men  as  obscure  as  the  majority 
who  elected  them.  And  thus  the  art  was  annually  growing 
weaker  and  worse,  and  almost  promising  to  become  extinct  if 
caustic  correctives  were  not  promptly  applied. 

Meanwhile  to  return  to  Haydon,  then  an  Academy  student. 
In  the  midst  of  his  studies,  in  March  1805,  he  'was  sud- 
denly recalled  home  by  the  illness  of  his  father.  He  hurried 
down  to  Plymouth,  but  he  did  not  forget  to  carry  with 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


27 


him  all  the  materials  of  his  art.  If  a  cruel  fate  deprived 
him  of  his  father,  and  he  should  have  to  undertake  business, 
he  would  solace  his  grief  and  fill  up  his  evenings  by  drawing. 
This  was  not  from  want  of  heart.  It  was  the  mere  expression 
of  his  ruling  passion  overcoming  the  promptings  of  his  original 
disposition.  Luckily  for  him,  or  unluckily  as  some  think,  his 
father  recovered ;  and  then  began  a  renewal  of  the  old 
painful  struggle.  My  grandfather's  health  was  failing,  and 
Haydon  ought  to  have  taken  his  place.  He  felt  and  always 
owned  this.  But  in  the  interval,  since  his  leaving  home,  the 
change  from  boyhood  towards  manhood  had  taken  place  in 
him,  and  with  it  a  corresponding  growth  and  development  of 
character.  He  had  set  his  art  before  him  as  the  great  object 
of  his  life,  and  he  had  resolved  to  pursue  it.  But  his  sense 
of  duty  towards  his  parents  was  not  extinct,  and  after  a 
severe  struggle  he  decided  to  leave  his  art  and  submit  him- 
self humbly  to  his  father's  wishes.  This  was  good  of  him. 
Yet,  with  that  curious  hesitation  some  men  show  in  clutching 
the  fruits  of  victory,  just  as  their  grasp  has  only  to  close,  my 
grandfather  met  this  submission  by  himself  giving  in,  and 
begging  his  son  to  follow  which  pursuit  he  liked  best,  "  busi- 
ness or  art."  It  seems  incredible,  but  it  was  so.  I  suspect  he 
had  made  his  arrangements,  and  did  not  care  to  alter  them. 
Baydon,  astonished  out  of  all  prudence  at  this  unexpected 
concession,  eagerly  seized  the  offer.  "To  put  the  helm  up"  at 
the  right  moment  is  the  beginning  of  worldly  wisdom. 
Haydon  kept  his  "  hard  down,"  went  round  on  his  own  tack, 
and  in  five  minutes  had  parted  with  his  birthright  for  a 
palette  and  a  porte-crayon.  Henceforth  his  task  was  to  be 
that  difficult  one  of  making  your  own  way  in  the  world, 
without  rank  or  fortune,  and  with  a  good  deal  of  self-will. 
When  my  grandfather  died,  in  1813,  he  left  his  son— nothing. 
Uncle  Cobley  reaped  something  more  substantial. 

During  his  absence  from  town  Haydon  had  heard  from 
Fuseli,  and  from  Jackson,  a  fellow-student.  In  a  letter  (un- 
fortunately lost)  Jackson  had  announced  a  fresh  arrival  at  the 
Acad  my,  "a  raw,  tall,  pale,  queer  Scotchman,  an  odd  fellow, 
but  there  is  something  in  him.    His  name  is  Wilkie." 

Baydon  returned  to  town  in  time  to  make  Wilkie's  ac- 
quaintance before  the  schools  closed  in  August,  and  the  two 
soon  became  intimate,  and  then  close  friends.    I  believe  them, 


28 


MEMOIR  OF 


each  in  his  own  way,  to  have  been  deeply  attached  to  the 
other.  They  had  both  the  same  high  views  for  art,  the  same 
contempt  for  academical  art,  the  same  industry  and  love  of 
religion,  and  similar  simple  tastes.  Their  lives  were  singularly 
open  and  pure,  and,  though  Haydon  once  nearly  became  the 
victim  of  hackneyed  experience,  Art  was  his  only  mistress.  He 
held  with  Lucretius  that  such  connections  were  best  avoided — 
"Dissolvunt  nodos  omnes  et  vincla  relaxant." 

Wilkie  and  be  used  to  walk  home  together  to  Wilkie's 
lodgings,*  of  a  night,  bewailing  their  obscure  fate,  and  com- 
paring the  proud  heights  Napoleon  had  sprung  to,  at  a 
single  bound,  with  the  toilsome  path  they  must  struggle  up 
before  they  could  hope  to  reach  a  common  repute.  Tben 
Wilkie,  who  did  not  worship  rank,  but  adored  authority, 
would  deplore  the  low  taste  of  the  nobility,  and,  what  was 
more  to  his  point,  the  low  prices  they  paid,  which  hardly 
covered  the  cost  of  materials,  and  declare  he  should  "  leave  the 
couutry  unless  painters  were  treated  more  liberally."  Against 
the  Royal  Academy,  Haydon  records,  Wilkie,  Jackson,  and 
Collins  were  most  violent,  for  its  low  taste  in  art,  and  its 
evident  preference  for  men  of  inferior  ability  to  men  of  real 
talent.  Then  they  would  console  each  other  with  hopes  of 
better  times,  and  resolve  to  follow  up  their  art  and  do  their 
best  to  remedy  the  evils  they  felt  and  deplored. 

In  these  days,  Haydon  writes,  "  Wilkie  was  as  great  a 
radical  in  the  politics  of  art  as  Wordsworth  in  the  politics  of 
States."  It  seems  open  to  doubt  whether  these  opinions  were 
ever  really  abandoned  by  Wilkie.  He  suppressed  them  out  of 
prudence,  that  was  all.  But  all  this  helped  to  strengthen 
Haydon's  growing  opinions,  and  to  lay  the  foundation  for  that 
scheme  of  art  reform  of  which  he  came  out  as  the  determined 
advocate  some  years  later.  He  was  already  beginning  to  look 
upon  the  Royal  Academy  with  suspicion.  Rut  he  remembered 
Fintac's  advice  to  his  niece,  "  A  votre  age  il  faut  ecouter,  et 
se  taire,"  and  was  silent. 

Wilkie's  success  with  his  'Village  Politicians,'  in  180G 
(though  he  complained  bitterly  to  Haydon  of  the  price,  thirty 
guineas,  Lord  Mansfield  paid  to  him),  was  a  great  source  of 
delight  to  buth,  and  began  to  make  Haydon  think  of  painting. 
*  N  >.  11,  Bols  ver  Street,  Portland  H  ad.— Eft 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


39 


Wilkie  encouraged  him.  But  Haydon  doubted  whether  he 
had  yet  sufficient  information  and  skill  to  enable  him  to 
convey  his  conceptions  to  others.  He  had  knowledge,  and 
two  years'  drawing  had  given  him  certain  facility  of  hand  and 
eye,  and  he  had  mastered  the  anatomy  of  the  human  form. 
But  that  is  not  all  in  art.  However,  he  bought  his  first  palette 
and  brushes,  and  tried  to  paint  a  head  and  hands.  Wilkie 
thought  them  excellent.  Haydon  then  painted  and  glazed  a 
portrait  of  an  old  gamekeeper.  Wilkie  was  so  delighted  with 
this,  he  borrowed  it  for  its  fine  colour,  and  repeated  the  head 
in  the  old  grandfather  by  the  fire  in  the  '  Blind  Fiddler.' 

Then  Haydon  determined  to  try  and  paint  a  picture.  He 
boldly  chose  from  his  list  of  subjects  '  Joseph  and  Mary  resting 
on  the  road  to  Egypt.'  This  was  suggested  to  him  partly  by 
his  reverence  and  love  for  the  history  of  our  Lord,  and  partly 
by  his  admiration  of  Raphael.  On  the  1st  of  October,  1806,  he 
began  this  picture  on  his  own  responsibility.  He  says  it  cost 
him  "  enormous  labour  and  research,"  and  I  have  no  doubt  of 
it  from  what  I  remember  of  the  incidents  of  his  painting.  In 
the  course  of  November  1806,  Sir  George  and  Lady  Beaumont 
called  on  the  young  painter  to  make  his  acquaintance.  Lady 
Beaumont  was  a  charming  and  attractive  woman,  with  great 
taste  and  feeling  for  art,  and  Sir  George  a  man  of  the  iinest 
taste,  as  a  connoisseur,  in  Europe.  Painting  was  his  great 
delight  He  had  been  the  intimate  friend  of  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds  and  Gainsborough,  and  his  ambition  was  to  connect 
himself  with  the  art  of  the  country.  This,  Sir  George  has 
most  effectually  done,  for  he  was  practically  the  founder  of 
our  National  Gallery.  The  acquaintance  of  such  a  distin- 
guished man  was  a  great  honour,  and  the  interest  Sir  George 
took  in  Haydon,  though  once  temporarily  obscured,  never 
diminished  to  the  end  of  his  useful  life.  Sir  George  was 
much  pleased  with  the  picture,  but  hinted  that  it  was  "  quite 
large  enough  for  anything"  (6  feet  by  4  feet).  Haydon  re- 
spectfully differed.  Sir  Joshua  would  have  "shifted  his 
trumpet,"  and  most  men  would  have  bowed  and  submitted; 
but  Haydon,  although  he  had  the  greatest  possible  re- 
spect for  Sir  George,  rarely  conceived  it.  his  duty  to  take 
his  advice.  In  six  months  'Joseph  and  Mary'  Avas  finished 
and  sent  to  the  exhibition  (1807).  Fuseli  was  so  pleased 
with  the  picture,  he  ordered  it  to  be  hung  on  the  line,  but 


3° 


MEMOIR  OF 


he  privately  told  Haydon  that  Northcote  and  the  Hanging 
Committee  of  that  year  had  first  "skied  "it  far  above  the  whole 
lengths.  1  his  is  noteworthy,  as  some  evidence  of  the  spirit 
with  which  a  young  aspirant  for  historical  honours  was  re- 
garded by  the  old  Academicians  of  that  day.  As  Tacitus  says 
of  the  Jews,  these  gentlemen,  in  their  hanging  of  works  for 
exhibition,  exercised  the  highest  offices  of  friendship  towards 

each  other,  "et  adversus  omnes  alios  hostile  odium"  they 

watched  those  they  knew  were  not  of  their  opinions  with  the 
greatest  jealousy.  It  is  also  indirectly  corroborative  of 
Fuseli's  statement  with  regard  to  the  hanging  of  the  '  Den- 
tatus '  (1809),  the  second  historical  picture  Haydon  sent  to 
the  Academy,  and  it  is  valuable  as  evidence  of  the  real  im- 
portance of  a  fair  position  to  a  good  picture,  for  'Joseph  and 
Mary'  was  highly  approved,  and  considered  to  show  "great 
powers  of  drawing,  expression,  and  colour,"  which  was  "pro- 
nounced to  be  "  properly  flesh."  The  picture  was  bought  by 
Mr.  Thomas  Hope  for,  I  believe,  one  hundred  guineas,  and 
hung  in  his  gallery  at  I  >eepdene.* 

With  his  picture  in  a  good  position  at  the  exhibition,  and 
with  such  a  valuable  friend  as  Sir  George  Beaumont  to  dine 
with,  Haydon  was  not  long  before  he  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Sir  George's  old  friend,  Lord  Mulgrave. 

The  Duke  of  Portland,  on  forming  his  administration  in 
1807,  had  placed  Lord  Mulgrave  at  the  head  of  the  Admiralty, 
and  here  Haydon  and  his  new  friend  passed  many  pleasant 
hours  together.  Lord  Mulgrave  liked  the  lad,  found  him  full  of 
talent  and  information,  and  able  to  converse  on  other  subjects 
than  art.  He  gave  him  a  commission  at  once,  '  The  Death 
of  Dentatus,'  a  subject  that  had  never  been  painted  before 
and  gave  him  also  the  entree  of  his  house.  Here  the  boy 
dined  frequently  amongst  stars  and  garters,  ministers,  ambas- 
sadors, and  illustrious  refugees,  and  was  introduced  by  Lord 
Mulgrave  to  all  the  first  men  of  the  day.  Nothing  could  ba 
kinder  than  Lord  Mulgrave's  friendship  for  his  "  Devonshire 
lad."    And  he  showed  it  in  other  ways.    Besides  his  official 


*  This  wns  a  high  price  for  a  student's  picture  in  davs  when  AVilkie  only  jrnt 


B.  R.  HAYDOX. 


3t 


dinners,  the  First  Lord  was  also  fond  of  a  quiet  evening,  and 
many  times  would  send  for  Haydon  to  come  and  dine  with 
him  alone.  Haydon  was  a  good  listener,  and  eager  to  hear  a 
man  who  had  played  a  part  in  public  affairs,  talk  frankly 
about  them.  Lord  Mulgrave  talked  of  Pitt  and  Fox,  of  the 
men  of  the  French  Revolution,  of  India  and  Lord  Wellesley, 
of  Ireland  and  the  Union,  of  Nelson  and  Collingwood,  and  of 
Napoleon,  and  generally  upon  the  current  events  of  the  day, 
which,  I  regret  to  say,  Haydon  has  been  too  prudent  to  record, 
or  we  might  have  had  some  curious  and  secret  history.  There 
is  nothing  so  entertaining  as  the  conversational  reminiscences 
of  men  who  have  taken  an  active  part  in  politics,  diplomacy, 
or  war.  If  you  listen  to  them  judiciously,  they  will  let  out 
mauy  of  the  secret  springs  of  action  which  you  will  rarely 
find  in  their  deliberate  writings  or  published  works.  Their 
minds,  as  Macaulay  says  of  Mackintosh,  are  like  a  vast  maga- 
zine of  facts.  "  They  recollect,  they  do  not  create,  and  you 
have  only  to  apply  the  right  key,  and  they  will  unlock  their 
stores  and  display  the  real  article  to  your  delighted  view." 
But  no  third  person  must  be  present.  Two  are  friends,  three 
are  "  company."  It  was  much  in  this  spirit,  I  take  it,  that 
Lord  Mulgrave  confided  to  his  eager  young  listener  many 
details  of  his  secret  mission  to  the  Archduke  Charles,  after 
Marengo;  of  the  wars  of  1805-6,  the  Copenhagen  Expedition,  the 
war  in  Spain,  Canning,  the  Convention  of  Cintra,  and  the  future 
of  Wellington,  of  whom  Lord  Mulgrave  said,  in  1809,  "  If  you 
live  to  see  it,  that  man  will  prove  a  second  Marlborough." 

In  Lord  Mulgrave  Haydon  also  found  not  only  an  attentive 
listener,  but  a  good  friend.  To  him  Haydon  would  open  his 
whole  heart,  and  reveal  all  his  aspirations  and  hopes  for 
English  art,  and  always  received  from  Lord  Mulgrave  the 
warmest  sympathy,  support,  and  advice.  But  the  idea  of  ob- 
taining a  grant  of  public  money  for  art  Lord  Mulgrave 
regarded  as  hopeless.  "  There  is  nothing,"  he  used  to  say, 
"  Ministers  understand  so  little,  and  care  so  little  about,  as  art. 
You  will  never  get  a  grant  of  money  for  it.  What  you  do,  you 
must  do  by  your  own  exertions."  He  was  not  insensible  to  the 
truth  of  Haydon's  proposition,  but  he  knew  a  grant  of  money 
was  hopeless.  Considering  the  expenditure  of  the  Government, 
and  the  consequences  of  some  of  that  expenditure,  Lord  Mul- 
grave, as  a  Minister,  may  well  be  excused. 


MEMOIR  OF 


In  the  midst  of  all  this  dining-out  and  these  pleasant 
evenings  Haydon  never  lost  sight  of  his  main  object,  but  to 
this  he  now  added  daily  study  of  the  French,  Latin,  and 
Greek  authors,  in  order!  to  perfect  his  powers  of  verbal  expres- 
sion, and  to  qualify  himself  to  converse  freely  with  the  foreigners 
he  was  thrown  amongst.  I  find  him  also  "  attacking  "  Italian. 
Whole  pages  of  his  Journal  are  filled  with  verbs  and  idioms 
and  translations,  until  he  had  mastered  the  language,  and 
could  read  Dante,  Ariosto,  and  Tasso  in  the  original.  It  was 
the  same  in  everything  he  undertook.  "  Thorough  *'  was  his 
word.  There  was  nothing  of  "the  poor  half  and  half"  about 
him.  The  result  of  this  self-culture  was  that  he  mastered 
French  and  Italian,  and  got  through  Latin  and  Greek. 
Couple  this  with  his  art,  and  his  complete  mastery  of  that, 
and  it  must  be  admitted  that,  considering  all  things,  he  did 
well.  During  the  season  of  1807  Haydon  was  again  recalled 
home  by  an  accident  to  his  father,  who  had  broken  his  "  tendon 
Achilles  "  at  a  ball,  and  was  lamed  for  life.  Wilkie  strongly 
advised  him  to  set  to  work  while  at  home  and  paint  portraits 
for  practice.  This  advice  Sir  George  Beaumont  continue  I, 
provided  "  you  do  not  allow  yourself  to  be  led  away  from  High 
Art  by  the  money  you  can  quickly  realize  by  portraits."'  Hay- 
don carried  the  advice  down  with  him  to  Plymouth,  and  imme- 
diately began  to  paint  portraits  of  his  Plymouth  friends  at 
fifteen  guineas  a-head — a  very  "  handsome  "  price,  he  frankly 
admits,  considering  the  small  merit  of  the  pictures.*  By  the 
tumultuous  kindness  of  his  friends  he  made  money  so  fast  as  to 
astonish  Wilkie  and  alarm  himself.  Then,  like  Wyckerley 
with  the  King,  Haydon  ran  away  irom  his  good  fortune,  manied 

*  Havdnn  is  frequently  accused  bv  biographers  of  holding  portrait  painting  in 
great  contem|  t.  Tin's  is  quite  an  error.  What  lie  ridiculed  and  despised  \v..s, 
not  portrait  "  painting,"  but  portrait  "  tiianufacture."  He  bad  no  contempt  for 
anything  good  in  art.  He  objected  only  to  the  supremacy  being  given  to  portrait, 
anil  particularly  to  the  detestable  caricatures  of  his  dny,  over  and  above,  mid 
almost  to  the  exclusion  ot,  all  higher  art.  Many  passages  might  be  quoted  from 
bis  Journals  of  his  high  opinion  of  good  portrait  painting.  One  or  two  occur  to 
nie  :  "  Alter  having  gone  through  his  preparatory  sunlits,"  he  writes  of  a  pupil. 
'•  let  hill)  paint  portraits  diligently.  He  will  find  it  of  the  very  first  important  ." 
Ag.  in,  I  find  in  his  Journal:  "There  is  something  in  the  eminent  portrait 
painters,  from  their  daily  and  perpetual  intercourse  with  Nature,  that  painters  of 


id  learn  from."  In  his  evidence 
.en  none  after  the  Reform. .ti  n, 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


33 


himself  to  High  Art,  as  Wycherley  did  to  Lady  Drogheda,  to 
find  himself  in  the  en  I  very  much  in  the  same  sad  plight.* 

In  Novemlier  of  this  year  Haydon  suffered  a  sad  loss  in  the 
death  of  his  mother,  to  whom  he  was  deeply  attached.  She  died 
at  Salt  Hill,  on  the  road  to  London,  whither  Haydon  was  bringing 
her  for  medical  advice.  He  returned  to  Ide,  near  Exeter,  and 
buried  her  in  the  old  family  tomb.  To  the  day  of  his  own 
death  he  cherished  her  memory. 

By  the  first  of  January,  1808,  Haydon  had  returned  to 
London,  and  having  removed  to  41,  Great  Marlborough  Street, 
Begent  Street,  he  commenced  Lord  Mulgrave's  commission  of 
'  Dentatus.'  t  The  moment  selected  is  when  Dentatus,  fiercely 
pressing  back  his  assailants,  is  to  be  crushed  by  the  rock  being 
thrown  on  him  from  above.  It  is  a  fine  picture,  full  of  life, 
as  Leigh  Hunt  said,  "  like  a  bit  of  embodied  lightning,"  the 
action  is  so  immediate.  It  was  while  engaged  on  this  picture 
that  Haydon  first  made  acquaintance  with  John  and  Leigh 
Hunt.  Wilkie  introduced  the  Hunts  to  Haydon ;  but  where 
or  how  Wilkie  made  their  acquaintance  does  not  appear. 
Leigh  Hunt  was  a  great  contrast  in  every  respect  to  Wilkie. 
Something  from  each  put  into  one  would  have  made  a 
perfect  character.  Hunt  was  good-looking  and  agreeable, 
which  Wilkie  certainly  was  not;  and  Hunt  was  witty,  well- 
read,  fond  of  music,  of  high  poetic  temperament,  and  full  of 
fun  and  sparkle,  in  all  of  which  Wilkie  was  deficient.  But  if 
he  had  no  wit  and  no  music,  and  not  much  conversation  or 
poetry,  and  nothing  to  boast  of  by  way  of  looks,  Wilkie  had 
good  qualities.  He  knew  how  to  hold  his  peace  and  pick  his 
way,  and  would  never  set  his  own  house  on  fire,  or  yours,  "  to 
roast  his  eggs,"  as  the  saying  is,  and  he  was  wholly  innocent  of 
bills  and  discounters.  Wilkie,  in  short,  was  the  more  judicious 
friend.  He  was  the  man  to  settle  and  direct  you,  but  he 
would  not  lend  you  a  sixpence,  or  his  name.    The  other,  to 

*  Charles  II.  was  so  delighted  with  Wycherley  that  he  was  on  the  point  of 
making  him  Governor  to  the  Duke  of  Kichmoud,  with  a  salary  of  151)0/.  it  year. 
Wvehi  rley  meanwhile  fell  in  love  with  Lady  Drogheda,  or  she  with  him,  lieghcti  d 
the  King,  lost  his  appointment,  married  Lady  Droghj  (hi,  and  in  a  few  years  found 
himself  in  the  Fleet  Prison,  where  he  languished  for  seven  years,  when  James  II., 
who  remembered  him  kindly,  paid  his  debts,  and  released  him. — Ed. 

t  •  Dentatus '  is  in  the  collection  at  Mulgrave  Castle,  near  Whitby.    It  is  a 
cabinet  picture,  very  fine  in  colour  and  drawing,  and  in  excellent  pies*  rvation. 
It  was  engraved  in  England  by  Harvey,  and  in  France,  where  it  was  highly 
esteerm  d,  and  held  to  Lave  "established  the  puiuter'3  reputation."— Ed. 
VOL.  I.  D 


31 


MEMOIR  OF 


amuse,  distract,  and  unsettle  you,  lend  you  half  lie  possessed, 
back  a  bill  when  you  wanted  it,  and-  ask  you  to  do  the  same 
for  him  next  day.  I  am  much  mistaken  but  Haydon  found  this 
to  be  so.  Of  Leigh  Hunt's  brother  John,  Haydon  always  spoke 
in  terms  of  the  highest  respect  and  admiration.* 

In  this  picture  of  '  Dentatus '  Haydon  encountered  greater 
difficulties  than  had  ever  occurred  to  his  inexperience  were 
likely  to  obstruct  him.  But  every  fresh  difficulty  only  gave 
zest  to  his  ardent  mind.  "Nothing  is  really  difficult,"  he  used 
to  say  ;  "  it  is  only  we  who  are  indolent."  Sir  George  Beaumont, 
too,  comforted  and  inspirited  him  greatly.  "  The  more  elevated 
be  your  goal,"  he  writes,  "  the  greater  must  be  the  exertion  of 
every  nerve  and  sinew  to  reach  it."  These  inspiriting  words 
cheered  him  on  to  the  task  he  had  set  himself.  His  object  was 
to  paint  for  '  Dentatus  '  the  finest  form  he  could  invent.  But 
between  the  two  opinions  of  Fuseli,  who  said  'Dentatus'  looked 
"  too  much  like  life,"  because  painted  from  a  living  model,  and 
of  Wilkie,  who  said,  when  Haydon,  to  please  Fuseli,  softened 
down  the  markings  of  the  joints  and  muscles,  that  it  looked 
"as  if  painted  from  stone,"  Haydon,  in  consequence,  painted 
'Dentatus'  in  and  out  several  times.  Certain  art-critics  I 
remember,  who,  if  they  had  to  paint  a  lion  would  paint  the 
skin  and  not  the  lion,  and  be  satisfied,  have  in  their  wisdom 
appealed  to  Haydon's  action  here  as  a  proof  of  "  Haydon's 
ignorance."  Young  men  of  high  design  when  they  begin 
great  works  are  always  taunted  with  want  of  experience,  under 
one  form  or  another.  This  is  the  common  misfortune  on  first 
setting  out  in  life.  But  what  these  critics  forget  to  acknow- 
ledge is  that,  it  is  the  capability  or  incapability  of  conquering 
consequences  that  distinguishes  the  man  of  genius  from  the 
man  of  none.  In  the  midst  of  his  distress  at  not  being  able  to 
realize  his  own  conception  of  a  figure  of  truly  heroic  rnould, 
combined  with  all  the  essential  detail  of  actual  life,  Wilkie 
called  with  an  order  to  see  some  "  marbles "  Lord  Elgin  had 
brought  from  Athens.  Haydon  had  no  idea  of  what  he  was 
going  to  see,  nor  how  the  sight  would  reward  him.  At  the 
first  glance  he  saw  in  these  Greek  marbles  that  combination  of 

*  In  a  very  kindly-written  article  upon  "  Leigh  Hunt  and  B  E.  Haydon," 
pnbli.-hcd  in  the  'St.  James's  Magazine'  (1875) tlie  writer  regrets  Haydon's  sepa- 
ration from  Leigh  Hunt.  I,  on  the  contrary,  feel  satisfied  it  would'  have  been 
better  for  Haydon  had  they  never  met. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


35 


Nature  and  Idea  he  had  in  vain  sought  among  existing 
antiqu.  s.*  "  The  first  thing  I  fixed  my  eyes  on,"  he  writes,  "  was 
the  wrist  of  a  figure  in  one  of  the  female  groups,  in  which  was 
visible  the  radius  and  the  ulna.  I  was  astonished,  for  I  had 
never  seen  them  hinted  at  in  any  female  wrist  in  the  antique. 
I  darted  my  eye  to  the  elbow  and  saw  the  outer  condyle  visibly 
affecting  the  shape,  as  in  nature.  I  saw  that  the  arm  was  in 
repose,  and  the  soft  parts  in  relaxation,  as  in  nature.  My  heart 
beat !  If  I  had  seen  nothing  else  I  had  seen  enough  to  keep 
me  to  nature  for  the  rest  of  my  life.  But  when  I  turned  to  the 
Theseus,  and  saw  that  every  form  was  altered  by  action  or 
repose ;  when  I  saw  the  two  sides  of  his  back  varied ;  one  side, 
stretched  from  the  shoulder  blade,  being  pulled  forward,  and 
the  other  side,  compressed  from  the  shoulder  blade,  being 
pushed  close  to  the  spine,  as  he  rested  on  his  elbow ;  and  when 
I  turned  to  the  Il  ssus  and  to  the  fighting  Metope,  and  saw 
the  most  heroic  style  of  art,  combined  with  all  the  essential 
detail  of  actual  life,  the  thing  was  done  at  once  and  for  ever." 
"  Now,"  he  adds,  in  a  burst  of  very  natural  enthusiasm,  "  now 
was  I  mad  for  buying  Albinus?  "  He  walked  hurriedly  home  and, 
looking  at  his  figure  of  Dentatus  with  disgust,  "  dashed  out  the 
abominable  mass."  Then,  with  the  leave  of  Lord  Elgin,  Haydon 
put  himself  again  at  school,  and  for  three  months  spent  his  days, 
from  morn  to  midnight,  drawing,  alone,  from  these  marbles. 

As  this  Elgin  marble  question  greatly  affected  Haydon's  fate 
and  fortunes,  I  may  be  permitted  to  say  here,  this  conviction 
which  he  felt  of  the  beauty  and  inestimable  value  of  the 
marbles  was  soon  called  in  question.  Mr.  Payne  Knight, 
Lord  Aberdeen,  and  a  small  clique  of  "  Dilettanti  "  collectors, 
whose  chief  vexation  seems  to  have  been  at  the  presumption  of 
anyone,  out  of  their  set,  owning  or  giving  an  opinion  upon  an 
original  antique,  ridiculed  Haydon's  conclusions,  and  "set 
down "  Lord  Elgin.    "  My  Lord,"  said  Payne  Knight,  one 

*  The  great  distinction  between  the  Elgin  Marbles  and  other  antique,  according 
to  Haydon,  is  the  want  of  unity  and  d.  penitence  of  the  p  irts  in  the  Litter,  and  the 
complete  unity  in  the  foimer.  Thus  in  the  Niohe  the  head  is  placed  as  if  it  had 
no  connection  with  the  neck,  or  the  neck  with  the  body.  So  in  the  Apollo 
Belvedere,  the  arms  look  as  if  stuck  on  to  the  body  without  any  of  the  connecting 
incidents  of  flesh.  Cover  the  head  of  the  Apollo,  and  the  bo.ly,  limbs,  and  arms 
are  stuffed  *kins.  In  1815  Haydon  said  to  Canova,  "  Do  you  think  if  the  Apollo 
Lad  been  found  without  his  head,  his  figure  would  have  stood  so  highly?"  "  Peut- 
etre  non,"  said  Canova ;  "  they  would  have  been  considered  commonplace 
fragments." — Ed. 

D  2 


3<5 


MEMOIR  OF 


evening  at  dinner,  "  you  have  lost  your  labour ;  your  marbles 
are  not  Greek,  they  are  Roman  of  the  time  of  Hadrian."  This 
was  a  cruel  blow  to  Lord  Elgin,  who,  on  his  own  responsibility, 
had  spent  upwards  of  30,0001.  to  bring  these  marbles  to 
England,  and  it  was  the  merest  assumption  on  the  part  of 
Mr.  Payne  Knight.  But  Lord  Elgin  had  not  sufficient  know- 
ledge of  the  principles  of  art  to  defend  his  own  opinions 
against  such  an  assailant.  He  fell  back  on  his  young  friend 
Haydon,  who  quickly  came  to  his  rescue.  A  man  in  the  posi- 
tion of  Mr.  Payne  Knight,  the  acknowledged  authority  upon 
art,  looked  up  to  by  the  artists,  consulted  by  the  Government, 
and  followed  by  the  nobility,  was  the  man  of  all  others,  in 
Haydon's  opinion,  who  was  not  to  be  permitted  to  circulate 
dangerous  sophisms  upon  art.  He  was  also  the  author  of  a 
dull  didactic  poem,  in  five  books.*  Such  a  combination  must 
have  been  well  nigh  irresistible.  When  and  how  they  first 
crossed  swords  I  cannot  trace,  most  probably  at  Sir  George 
Beaumont's.  But  wherever  it  was,  the  difference  of  opinion 
between  the  young  painter  and  the  old  dilettante  soon  settled 
into  mutual  aversion ;  and  a  war  began  that  time  never 
softened,  nor  age  subdued.  Haydon  attacked  Payne  Knight's 
arguments  in  society  with  a  freshness  and  audacity,  combined 
with  a  profound  knowledge  of  his  subject,  Mr.  Payne  Knight 
was  no  match  for.  Driven  at  length  from  his  "  Roman  of  the 
time  of  Hadrian"  position,  he  then  admitted  the  marbles 
"  might  be  Greek,"  but  "  were  evidently  the  work  of  journey- 
men not  worthy  the  name  of  artists."  Really,  to  look  at  these 
divine  fragments,  and  be  told  any  man  in  his  senses  had  once 
uttered  such  an  opinion  concerning  them  seems  incredible. 
But  there  is  no  bigotry  in  the  woidd  so  intolerant  as  the 
bigotry  of  supercilious  art-critics,  gentlemen  who  think  them- 
selves a?sthetic.  On  this  new  version  of  the  old  story,  put 
forth  with  all  the  pomposity  befitting  the  occasion,  Haydon 
flung  such  shouts  of  laughter,  and  so  heartily  ridiculed  the 
idea  of  such  men  as  Payne  Knight  and  Lord  Aberdeen  and 
their  learned  clique  now  pronouncing  an  opinion  as  to  what 
was,  or  what  was  not  the  work  of  an  "artist,"  as  to  make  Mr. 
Payne  Knight  and  his  friends  mortal  enemies  for  life.  This 
was  imprudent,  and  unnecessary.    But  I  suspect  Lord  Mul- 

*  4  The  Progress  of  Civil  Society,'  laughably  satirized  by  CanniDg.— Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


37 


grave,  who  seems  to  have  had  a  good  deal  of  the  spirit  of  Lord 
Steyne  when  he  asked  the  rector  to  meet  the  priest  at  his 
table,  and  enjoyed  the  combat  that  followed,  to  have  been 
patting  the  back  of  his  Devonshire  lad.  Both  he  and  Sir 
George  Beaumont  relished  the  discomfiture  of  Mr.  Payne 
Knight  and  his  learned  friends.  The  result  of  the  contest  was 
that,  society  began  to  lose  faith  in  their  ancient  prophet; 
opinion  became  divided ;  and  Mr.  Payne  Knight  went  down. 
Yet,  so  powerful  with  Ministers  was  the  influence  of  the  Dilet- 
tanti, they  kept  the  question  of  purchase  open  for  eight  years 
longer,  and,  but  for  Haydon,  they  would  have  cleverly  secured 
the  rejection  of  the  marbles  in  the  end.  Indeed,  if  it  had  been 
possible  to  kill  a  truth  by  clamorous  denial,  the  marbles  would 
nave  been  irretrievably  lost  to  us.  For  neither  ministers,  nor 
society  knew  more  of  the  basis  of  beauty  in  art,  or  how  to 
distinguish  the  true  from  the  false,  than  its  predecessors  of 
the  authenticity  of  the  epistles  of  Phalaris.  But  Haydon's 
influence  was  growing  every  day.  "West,  Lawrence,  Goethe, 
Kumohr,  Denon,  Waagen,  and  all  the  best  men  were  on 
his  side,  and,  when  he  saw  the  marbles,  Canova.  "  I  ad- 
mire," writes  Canova  to  Lord  Elgin  (10  Nov.  1815),  "the 
truth  of  nature  united  to  the  choice  of  the  finest  forms.  Every- 
thing breathes  life  with  a  veracity,  with  an  exquisite  know- 
ledge of  art,  but  without  the  least  ostentation  or  parade  of  it, 
which  is  concealed  by  consummate  skill.  The  naked  is  per- 
fect flesh,  and  most  beautiful  of  its  kind."  This  confirmed  all 
that  Haydon  had  been  saying  for  the  eight  previous  years. 

For  three  months  longer  Haydon  continued  to  draw  from 
the  Elgin  Marbles  until  he  had  thoroughly  mastered  the  form 
of  those  exquisite  fragments,  and  brought  his  hand  and  mind 
into  due  subjection.  The  same  sincerity  and  foresight  which 
appears  in  his  early  study  of  anatomy  is  yet  more  prominent 
in  his  immediate  estimate  of  the  value  of  these  marbles. 
Here  too,  we  see  again  how  real,  how  thorough,  this  lad  was ; 
with  what  quick  sense  and  courage  he  acted ;  how  com- 
pletely he  felt  and  understood  that  the  highest  genius  is  not 
sufficient  to  carry  you  to  your  ambition  without  industry, 
without  sincerity,  without  truth.  No  matter  how  disheartening 
the  discovery  that  he  had  begun  to  paint  before  he  was 
qualified,  the  moment  Haydon  saw  the  truth  clearly,  he  put 
aside  his  palette  and  brushes,  went  back  in  all  humility  to  his 


33 


MEMOIR  OF 


crayon  and  drawing-board,  and  honestly  strove  to  fit  himself 
for  his  work.  In  an  age  of  mendacity  and  delusion  it  stands 
out  well,  and  is  a  lesson  to  students  for  all  time. 

As  soon  as  Haydon  felt  himself  competent  to  resume  paint- 
ing, he  returned  to  his  palette  and  finished  '  Dentatus '  in  time 
for  the  exhibition  of  1809.  Wilkie,  Fuseli,  Sir  George,  and 
Lord  Mulgrave  were  highly  pleased  with  the  work.  Wilkie 
and  Sir  George  said  it  would  make  Haydon's  reputation  in  any 
school  in  Europe.  Lord  Mulgrave  said  little,  but  showed  his 
satisfaction  by  begging  Haydon  not  to  exhibit  it  at  the 
Academy.  "  They  will  put  it  out  of  sight,  you  may  depend 
on  it."  Haydon  demurred :  they  had  hung  his  first  picture  well ; 
why  should  they  not  hang  this — a  better  picture — at  least  as 
well  ?  It  was  his  "  duty  "  as  a  previous  student  to  send  what  work 
he  did  for  the  credit  of  the  Academy,  if  it  were  good.  Sir 
George  agreed  with  Lord  Mulgrave  that  it  would  be  better  not 
to  trust  an  ideal  work  like  '  Dentatus '  in  the  hands  of  men  who 
had  either  failed  in,  or,  had  no  feeling  for  ideal  art.  It  was  not 
that  they  feared  Fuseli,  Opie,  Lawrence,  and  the  best  men  of 
the  Academy,  but  they  knew  the  best  men  were  lost  in  a 
majority  of  mediocrities.  They  had  seen  too  often  in 
Keynolds's  time  and  since,  that  the  Royal  Academy 

"  hath  a  tail 
More  perilous  than  the  head," 

and  that  the  chances  were  in  favour  of  a  picture  like 
'  Dentatus  '  being  "  skied,"  or  put  where  no  one  could  see  it. 
Haydon  in  his  impulsive  way  refused  to  believe  so  ill  of  the 
Academy,  and  entreated  to  be  allowed  to  send  it  there.  Lord 
Mulgrave  at  length  reluctantly  consented,  and  then  he  did 
a  very  foolish  thing.  He  and  Sir  George  hurried  off  to  Phillips, 
one  of  the  hanging  committee  of  that  year,  to  beg  'a  good  place 
for  Dentatus.'  Nothing  was  better  calculated  to  bring  about  the 
very  result  they  dreaded.  '  Dentatus  '  was  sent  in,  seen  and  ap- 
proved by  Fuseli,  and  hung  by  his  order  on  the  line,  in  the  same 
place  as  Haydon's  previous  picture  in  1807.  So  far  everything 
was  satisfactory.  The  day  before  the  private  day  a  hurried 
note  reached  Haydon  from  Fuseli,  to  say  he  had  been  out  of 
town  since  the  hanging  of  the  pictures,  and  on  his  return  he 
had  found  '  Dentatus '  taken  down  from  its  place  and  put  in 
the  ante-room.    Fuseli  said  no  more,  but  what  he  had  said 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


39 


was  significant.  Where  was  this  ante-room  ?  That  same  day 
West  met  Sir  George  Beaumont,  and  said  West,  who  was  as 
deep  as  Garrick,  shaking  Sir  George  warmly  by  the  hand  and 
looking  into  his  eyes,  "  You  will  be  pleased  to  hear  that  we 
have  hung '  Dentatus '  in  the  best  place  in  the  whole  Academy ;" 
and  before  Sir  George,  good  easy  man,  could  recover  his 
delight,  and  ask  where,  West  pressed  his  hand  warmly  and  bade 
him  adieu.  Unluckily  West  met  Lady  Beaumont's  carriage 
round  the  corner.  She  waved  her  hand,  and  according  to 
her  account,  stopped  him :  "  What  have  you  done  with 
'  Dentatus  ?'  "  He  nattered  her  with  the  same  charming  fiction : 
"  Done  with  it !  why  we  have  hung  it  in  the  very  best  place  in 
the  Academy."  "  How  nice  of  you !"  said  Lady  Beaumont. 
But  then,  with  that  laudable  desire  for  a  "  fact "  which  has 
distinguished  the  sex  since  Sophia  of  Hanover  used  to  puzzle 
Leibnitz  by  the  subtlety  of  her  metaphysical  questions,  she 
added  in  her  sweetest  tone,  "  And  pray  where  may  this  best 
place  be  ?  "  Bluebeard's  chamber  was  nothing  to  the  question, 
or  the  place.  West  tried  to  parry ;  Lady  Beaumont  kept  him 
to  the  point.  "  No,  no,  but  where  ?  tell  me  exactly"  "  Well," 
said  West,  driven  to  it  at  last,  "just  in  the  very  middle  of  the 
Octagon  room,"  and  here  he  was  seized  with  a  violent  fit  of 
coughing.  "  Dear  me,"  said  Lady  Beaumont,  her  sympathies 
touched,  "  what  a  distressing  cough  you  have  got !  pray  take 
care  of  yourself,  good-bye."  West  waved  his  adieux,  he  could 
not  speak,  poor  man,  and  Miladi  drove  on,  repeating  to  herself 
"the  Octagon-room — that's  something  new.  I  wonder  if  it  is 
nice."  That  evening  Lord  Mulgrave  and  Haydon  dined  with 
them,  and  Lady  Beaumont,  full  of  her  news,  told  it  to  Lord 
Mulgrave  as  a  great  surprise.  To  her  vexation  he  did  not 
show  any  pleasure.  When  a  pretty  woman  gives  you  a 
surprise,  you  should  always  show  delight.  Lord  Mulgrave  on 
the  contrary  knitted  his  brows,  looked  sullen,  and  slowly 
asked,  "  And  pray  did  West  ever  hang  any  of  his  own  pictures 
in  the  Octagon-room  ?"  and  then  he  explained  what  the  Octagon- 
room  was.  He  knew  it  well.  Jt  was  the  lumber-room  of  the 
Academy,  without  light,  where  a  superfluous  picture  was  now 
and  then  hung  by  academicians  to  get  it  out  of  the  way.  Lord 
Mulgrave  was  mortified,  and  to  a  nobleman  and  minister  who 
had  just  given  one  hundred  and  fifty  guineas  to  a  lad  for  a 
historical  picture,  which  everybody  had  predicted  would  create  a 


4o 


MEMOIR  OF 


sensation,  it  was  not  gratifying.  Haydon,  who  was  at  the  table, 
listened,  and  said  nothing  about  Fuseli's  note.  He  was  vexed 
with  himself  for  not  taking  Lord  M nigra ve's  advice,  but  he 
should  like  to  see  the  picture  first  before  he  allowed  himself  to 
feel  angry.  And  he  had  this  consolation  at  all  events,  that  if 
the  removal  of  the  picture  from  the  great  room  to  the  ante-room 
— from  the  light  to  the  dark — was  the  result  of  jealousy  and  ill 
will,  it  was  clear  the  hanging  committee  would  not  trust  the 
picture  in  a  fair  light  to  the  decision  of  the  public,  but  had 
resorted  to  an  expedient  that  might'  as  easily  be  employed  if 
they  were  in  the  wrong  as  in  the  right.  The  next  day  being  the 
private  day,  the  exact  position  of  '  Dentatus  '  was  ascertained. 
It  was  hung  in  the  dark.  Lord  Mulgrave  was  furious.  Sir 
George  Beaumont  shared  his  just  indignation,  and  both  ex- 
pressed their  opinion  of  the  transaction  freely.  West,  finding 
himself  in  hot  water,  tried  to  get  out  of  it  at  the  expense  of  his 
brother  conspirators.  He  went  about  the  room  saying,  '  what 
a  pity  it  is,  what  a  pity  it  is  !  but  you  see,  Sir,  the  academicians 
ivill  have  their  own  pictures  on  the  line."  That  may  have 
been  perfectly  true,  but  still  two  questions  remained  whichWest 
never  stopped  to  answer,  nor  has  any  member  of  the  Academy 
since.  1st.  Ought  not  every  department  of  the  art  to  find  a 
fair  place  upon  the  best  walls  of  the  Academy  exhibition? 
2ndly.  As  Haydon's  'Dentatus'  was  the  only  historic  work  in 
that  exhibition,  and  had  been  hung  in  a  fair  place  by  the 
Keeper,  was  it  not  doubly  entitled  to  that  place ;  and  why  was 
it  removed,  and  in  the  Keeper's  absence  ? 

Leslie  and  other  academical  writers  have  attempted  in  a 
lame  way  to  defend  the  Academy  treatment  of  Haydon's  picture 
on  the  ground  that  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  as  President,  once 
hung  a  portrait  in  this  very  Octagon-room.  But  that  is  not 
the  question.  Besides,  portraits  are  the  work  of  a  few  weeks 
only,  historical  pictures,  of  years ;  and,  moreover,  Sir  Thomas 
was  then  President  of  the  Koyal  Academy,  and  I  find  had 
several  other  portraits  in  the  same  exhibition,  and  on  the  line 
in  the  best  rooms,  whereas  Haydon  was  a  young  lad  just 
coming  into  notice  and  this  was  his  only  picture,  and  the  only 
historical  picture  in  that  exhibition,  and  on  arrival  it  had  beeu 
fairly  hung  and  was  subsequently  removed — why  ? 

"With  every  desire  to  make  the  fullest  allowance  for  the 
difficulties  of  a  "hanging  committee,"  and  there  can  be  no 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


4i 


more  invidious  task,  I  fail  to  see  any  reasonable  ground 
of  defence  for  their  conduct  towards  Hay  don  on  this  occa- 
sion. 

Fuseli  subsequently  explained  the  whole  transaction  to 
Haydon.  I  believe  he  had  his  information  from  Stothard, 
who  was  present  at  the  operation  of  taking  down.  During 
Fuseli's  absence  from  town,  Shee,  Phillips,  and  Howard,  the 
three  hangers  for  the  year,  went  to  West  on  the  last  day  and 
asked  hi  111  to  give  them  an  order  to  remove  the  'Dentatus' 
from  where  Fuseli  had  hung  it.  First,  they  said,  the  place  in 
which  Fuseli  had  put  it  did  not  allow  justice  to  be  done  to 
its  merits — the  light  was  not  good  enough — and  they  were  so 
considerate  of  the  young  man's  reputation  they  proposed  to 
put  it  in  the  dark !  Then  they  said  it  was  a  "  glaring " 
picture,  and  killed  the  pictures  by  academicians  on  each  side 
of  it,  so  that  of  course  the  dark  was  just  the  place  for  it.  But 
this  was  to  some  extent  an  idle  plea,  for  it  never  could  have 
been  a  glaring  picture,  though  it  very  probably  extinguished 
the  aca  lemical  works  on  each  side.  Stothard  said  he  protested 
against  the  removal  of  the  picture,  particularly  into  the  ante- 
room, as  an  act  of  gross  injustice  and  cruelty.  But  the  hangers 
persisted,  and  brought  up  Northcote  and  West  to  look  at  the 
picture.  There  was  an  animated  discussion,  and  West  ordered 
the  picture  to  be  put  into  the  ante-room.* 

When  in  1814  the  hangers  of  that  year  hung  Martin's 
'Clytie'  and  'Joshua'  in  this  same  ante-room,  Martin  con- 
sidered himself  so  insulted  he  refused  to  exhibit  again,  and  for 
sixteen  years  in  succession  abstained  from  sending  a  single 
work  to  the  Academy.  When  his  enemies  were  dead  Martin 
began  to  exhibit  there  once  more.  It  almost  seems  a  privilege 
of  societies  of  art  and  literature  to  embarrass  and,  if  possible,  to 
suppress  rising  reputations.  Haydon  and  Martin  were  not  to 
escape  where  Gainsborough  had  been  made  to  suffer.f 

*  Haydon  always  believed  that  bis  fellow-townsman,  Northcote,  was  really  at 
the  bottom  of  the  whole  affair.  It  may  have  been  so.  Northcote  was  p  issessed 
by  nature  of  tint  subtle  spirit  of  intrigue  which  cannot  resist  the  temptation  of 
making  mischief,  or  of  injuring  a  rival.  But  I  can  find  no  grounds  for  putting  the 
blame  sp .  cinlly  upun  Northcote,  although  it  is  probable  enough  he  had  his  share 
in  the  transaction. — Ed. 

t  In  the  exhibition  of  1809  I  find  that  Howard  and  Phillips,  two  of  the 
hangers  who  removed  Haydon's  '  Denta'us,'  had  each  of  them  eight  pictures  of 
their  own  on  the  line,  not  one  of  which,  as  Leigh  Hunt  said,  was  "  worth 
'  Dentatus's '  little  toe." — Ed. 


42 


MEMOIR  OF 


That  the  position  given  to  the  '  Dentatus '  in  the  exhibition 
of  1809  did  Haydon  a  serious  professional  injury  it  would  be 
idle  to  deny.  Although  Lord  Mulgrave,  by  way  of  consolation, 
sent  Haydon  an  additional  cheque  for  sixty  guineas,  yet  people 
of  rank,  says  Haydon,  were  ashamed  to  own  they  had  seen 
the  picture,  or  knew  the  painter.  In  a  week  he  found  his 
painting  room  deserted.  On  the  other  hand  the  affair  gave 
rise  to  severe  reflections  upon  the  conduct  in  general  of 
hanging  committees.  Haydon  took  no  part  in  the  wordy  war. 
Like  the  squire  between  Thwackum  and  Square  he  looked  on 
in  half-scornful  amusement,  leaving  the  rival  parties  to  fight  it 
out.  He  felt  the  time  had  not  come  for  him  to  speak,  and  so 
he  held  his  peace.  That  he  was  mortified  no  one  can  doubt. 
But  he  was  too  buoyant  and  sanguine  for  anything  of  this  kind 
to  depress  him.  It  was  more  likely  to  stimulate  his  hardy  and 
effective  nature  into  determined  action.* 

Shortly  after  these  events  and  during  the  season  of  1809, 
Haydon  in  a  spirit  of  conciliation  and  with  an  earnest  desire  to 
establish  the  most  friendly  relations  between  himself  and  the 
Royal  Academy,  and  setting  aside  entirely  the  recent  indignity 
their  hanging  committee  had  put  upon  him,  entered  his  name 
with  Wilkie  for  preliminary  election  into  the  Academy  as  an 
Associate.  There  were  two  vacancies  and  several  candidates,  of 
whom  the  fittest  were  Wilkie  and  Haydon.  The  moment  Hay- 
don's  name  was  sent  in,  the  most  intense  jealousy  seems  to  have 
been  aroused  among  the  majority  of  academicians.  West  and 
his  colleagues,  like  Dante's  amiable  men  in  the  City  of  Dis, 
slamming  their  gates  in  the  face  of  Virgil,  united  as  one  man 
to  keep  Haydon  out.  Wilkie  and  an  inferior  man  named  Da  we 
were  elected.    Haydon,  by  reason  of  the  action  of  the  majority, 

*  All  recent  biographers  whose  works  I  have  examined,  overlook  this  important 
feature  in  Haydon's  character.  Nothing  ever  depressed  him  for  long.  They 
erroneously  attribute,  his  separation  from  the  Royal  Academy  to  the  "depres- 
sion "  and  "  annoyance  "  and  "  mortified  vanity  "  consequent  on  this  '  Dentatus  ' 
incident.  Nothing  can  be  further  from  the  truth.  Haydon  was  not  one  of 
Issaehar's  asses,  I  admit.  He  was  not  born  with  a  saddle  on  his  baok.  But,  to 
attribute  Ids  separation  from  the  Academy  to  the  '  Dentatus  '  incident,  is  to  give 
that  incident  ;.n  air  of  too  much  importance.  Perhaps  this  was  necessary  to 
cover  the  retreat  of  the  Academy.  The  '  Dentatus'  incident  occurred  in  1800, 
and  was  only  one  out  of  many  items,  I  regret  to  say,  of  indignity  and  insult 
inflicted  by  the  Royal  Academy  upon  Haydon,  which  at  length  led  to  his  with- 
drawal from  all  connexion  with  that  Society.  Mr.  Samuel  Redgrave,  in  his 
'Dictionary  of  Artists,'  speaks  of  Haydon  being  "wounded  by  the  '  Dentatus ' 
affair,  an. I  thereupon  quarrelling  with  the  Academy."  This  is  inaccurate  a  . d 
misleading. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


43 


had  not  one  single  vote.  "  Numbers,"  says  Newman,  "  increase 
the  effect  and  diminish  the  shame  of  injustice." 

Leslie,  R.A.,  in  his  official  capacity  always  denied  this 
rejection  of  Haydon  as  a  matter  of  fact,  and  charged  Haydon 
with  untruthfulness  in  his  accusation  against  the  Academy. 
But  finding  the  fact  to  he  officially  recorded — he  might  have 
found  this  out  before,  one  would  think — he  does  Haydon  tardy 
justice  in  his  Autobiography  (p.  224),  which,  by  the  way,  was 
not  to  be  published  until  after  his  own  death.  Therein  Leslie 
says,  "  This  (viz.  the  election  of  Dawe  in  preference  to  Hay- 
don) was  certainly  disgraceful."  "  Haydon's  4  Dentatus  '  should 
assuredly  have  made  him  an  Associate." 

Coming  so  quickly  upon  the  1  Dentatus '  affair,  this  rejection 
confirmed  Haydon's  suspicion  that  historic  art  was  disapproved 
by  the  Academy,  in  whose  hands  rested  the  honours  of  the 
profession.  Either  that,  or,  a  certain  clique  in  the  Academy, 
jealous  of  the  young  painter,  but  failing  to  find  just  grounds 
for  his  rejection  in  future,  sought  to  make  him  commit  some 
outbreak  of  passion,  when  they  could  appeal  to  their  prudence 
in  keeping  out  a  young  man  who  knew  so  little  how  to  con- 
trol himself.  Hence  the  'Dentatus'  incident,  but  here  Haydon's 
extreme  moderation  disconcerted  them.  Now  came  his  re- 
jection, coupled  with  the  selection  of  his  friend  and  fellow- 
student  Wilkie.  This  would  mortify  him  surely,  and  turn  him 
to  bay  when  he  would  rage  with  a  fury  that  would  recall  the 
days  of  Barry.  To  their  disappointment  Haydon  took  this 
fresh  proof  of  their  intolerance  calmly,  and  sensibly.  It 
wounded  him,  but  he  was  to  some  extent  consoled  by  seeing 
Wilkie  elected,  and  what  mortification  he  felt  was  more  for  his 
particular  style  of  art  than  for  his  own  personal  position.  But 
it  was  an  ungenerous  act,  and  well  may  Leslie  say  it  was 
"  disgraceful." 

West  and  his  colleagues  would  have  had  no  ground  of 
complaint  if  Haydon  had  straightly  attacked  them  legetaUonis. 
What  right  had  they  to  reject  him  ?  He  had  been  one  of  their 
most  vigorous  and  diligent  pupils ;  he  was  far  beyond  all  in 
his  knowledge  of  the  human  form,  and,  in  his  power  of  drawing 
West  himself  could  not  compete  with  him ;  nor  was  there 
one  historical  painter,  or  work  in  the  Academy  that  could 
compare  with  him  or  his  '  Dentatus.'  Assuredly  the  object  of 
the  institution  of  the  Royal  Academy  was  to  foster  and 


44 


MEMOIR  OF 


encourage  art,  not  to  caress  and  protect  a  body  of  indifferent 
artists.  "Had  there  been  twenty  historical  painters,"  writes 
Haydon,  "  and  I  alone  rejected,  it  would  have  been  an  objec- 
tion to  me  only.  .But  there  being  only  myself  pursuing 
historical  painting,  it  behoved  those  who  had  the  power  to 
foster,  encourage,  and  assist  me.  By  rejecting  me  they  laid 
themselves  open  to  the  suspicion  that  it  was  not  so  much 
dislike  of  me  as  of  the  style  of  art  I  was  pursuing.  Had  I 
consented  to  1  paint  portraits,'  as  Northcote  told  me  I  '  must,' 
there  would  have  been  no  difficulty.  But  it  was  because  I  had 
aspired  to  something  higher  in  art;  because  I  wished  to  correct 
the  habitual  slovenliness  of  the  English  school  in  drawing ; 
because  I  had  mastered  anatomy  (most  superficially  known 
only  to  West)  ;  and  because,  in  '  Dentatus,'  I  had  made  the 
first  resolute  attempt  in  the  century  to  unite  colour,  expres- 
sion, light,  shadow,  and  heroic  form  with  correct  drawing,  I 
was  to  be  '  put  down '  by  the  professors  in  an  academy  founded 
for  the  production  and  advancement  of  works  of  this  descrip- 
tion." These  are  temperate  and  sensible  remarks,  and  dispel 
the  statements  which  are  to  be  found  everywhere,  attributing 
to  Haydon  a  passionate  desire  for  revenge.  He  never  thought 
of  anything  of  the  kind.  What  he  tried  to  effect,  and  wished 
to  see  effected,  was  such  a  reform  of  the  Royal  Academy  as 
would  give  a  fair  chance  to  every  department  of  art.  Haydon 
was  an  enthusiast  in  his  art,  I  admit,  but  he  was  practical  in 
his  enthusiasm.  Throughout  his  whole  struggle  with  the  Royal 
Academy  he  shows,  not  only  that  he  knew  how  to  wait,  but, 
when  waiting  was  over,  how  to  act,  and  when  he  did  act  he 
proved  that  he  knew  what  should  be  done,  and  how  to  do  it. 
Enthusiasm  tempered  by  so  much  patience,  forethought,  and 
knowledge,  becomes  a  valuable  quality. 

Before  the  close  of  the  season,  1809,  Haydon  left  town, 
taking  Wilkie  with  him,  on  a  visit  to  my  grandfather,  at 
Plymouth.  Here,  in  his  hospitable  house,  they  seem  to  have 
enjoyed  themselves  heartily,  passing  a  month  or  five  weeks 
between  my  grandfather's  country  house  at  Underwood,  and  his 
house  at  Plymouth,  and  being  dined  out  and  lionised  in  all 
quarters.  They  passed  on,  in  August,  to  visit  Haydon 's  uncle, 
the  Vicar  of  Cheddar,  who  showed  Wilkie  every  attention  in 
his  power,  pointing  out  the  beauties  of  the  country,  the  famous 
cliffs  and  caverns,  &c,  to  all  of  which,  Haydon  relates,  Wilkie 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


45 


was  singularly  insensible,  his  "  whole  attention  being  absorbed 
in  observing  the  manners  and  expressions  of  the  people  before 
him."*  Wilkie  would  have  derived  more  real  delight  from  one 
hour  with  the  lazzaroni  of  Naples,  than  from  all  the  glories  of 
Venice  and  the  Adriatic. 

From  Cheddar  they  passed  on  to  Bath  to  pay  a  short  visit 
to  Mrs.  Hun,  the  mother  of  Canning,f  and  an  old  friend  of 
Haydon's — in  fact,  it  was  she  who  taught  him  to  read — and 
from  thence  returned  to  London,  and  went  down  to  Cole-Orton 
on  a  visit  to  Sir  George  and  Lady  Beaumont.  Here  they  spent 
a  delightful  fortnight,  lounging  in  the  lovely  gardens,  riding 
over  the  country,  wandering  about  the  woods  and  rocks  of 
Cham  wood,  sketching,  painting,  walking,  talking,  and  enjoying 
to  the  full  that  most  enjoyable  form  of  existence,  life  in  an 
English  gentleman's  country-house.  There  is  nothing  like  it 
in  the  world,  and  when  your  host  is  one  of  the  most  accom- 
plished and  best-informed  men  in  Europe,  and  your  hostess 
one  of  the  most  attractive  of  her  sex,  a  fortnight  of  such  a  life 
at  Cole-Orton  is  as  near  an  earthly  paradise — if  the  weather  be 
fine — as  anything  we  can  expect  here  below. 

It  was  here  Sir  George  Beaumont,  who  had  previously  given 
Haydon  a  commission,  now  agreed  to  a  life-size  picture,  and 
settled  the  subject.  It  was  to  be  a  scene  from  '  Macbeth.' 
But  unfortunately,  as  it  turned  out,  neither  thought  of  a 
written  agreement  for  reference  in  case  of  misunderstanding. 
Haydon,  I  presume,  was  too  delighted  to  be  allowed  to  paint 

*  Throughout  the  whole  tour  Wilkie  displayed  no  interest  whatever  in  tho 
beautiful  scenery  he  was  taken  to  visit.  A  Devonshire  "combe"  he  c  mid  not 
understand,  but  a  \v<  st  country  ploughboy  was  a  study  to  him.  Haydon,  who 
kept  a  "Journal"  of  their  jaunt,  seems  to  have  been  as  much  piqued  at  Wilkie's 
preference  as  De  Mnistre  with  Madame  de  Hautcastel,  when  lie  offered  her  a 
rose  for  the  ball  :— "Elle  la  prit,  la  posa  sur  sa  toilette  sans  la  regarder,  et  sans 
me  regarder  moi-meme.  Nous  fais  >ns,  ma  rose  ( t  moi,  une  fort  triste  figure.  '  Ne 
voyez-vous  pas,'  disait-elle  a  sa  femme  de  chambre,  'ne  voyez-vous  pas  que  ce 
caraeo  est  beaucoup  trop  large  pour  ma  taille  ?"'  &<•.,  &c.  Much  as  Madame  was 
arianging  her  "earaco"  for  effect,  was  Wilkie  studying  the  aboriginals  before 
him.— Ed. 

t  This  friendship  between  the  young  painter  and  Canning's  mother  may  serve 
to  explain  the  extraordinary  coldness  Canning  always  showed  to  Haydon.  He 
would  ha  dly  speak  to  him  when  they  met  at  the  houses  of  mutual  friends,  and 
never  of  Mrs.  Hun.  Canning  always  seemed  ashamed,  and  Haydon  always  said 
he  was  ashamed  of  his  poor  relations,  and  guilty  of  a  most  unsocial  arrogance 
towards  his  former  friends.  But  I  think  this  can  hardly  be  asserted  of  him  with 
regard  to  his  mother,  with  whom  he  regularly  corresponded,  and  did  not  forget  to 
provide,  his  own  official  pension  of  50(1?.  a  year  being  made  over  by  Canning, 
in  1801,  to  Mrs.  Hun  and  her  daughter,  Canning's  half-sister,  for  their  two 
lives. — Ed. 


46 


MEMOIR  OF 


life-size,  for  which  he  had  pined;  and  Sir  George  probably 
thought  no  more  about  the  size,  but  only  of  the  subject.  This 
was  a  matter  of  prolonged  correspondence  and  much  considera- 
tion. At  length  details  being  settled,  Haydon  began  the  pic- 
ture. The  moment  chosen  is  that  in  which  Lady  Macbeth, 
rustling  on  the  stairs,  startles  Macbeth  as  he  is  stepping  in 
between  the  sleeping  grooms  and  the  bed  to  murder  the  King. 
It  is  a  scene  full  of  the  sublimity  of  terror,  but  was  a  subject 
almost  beyond  Haydon  at  that  age.  He  had  not  yet  a  suf- 
ficient control  over  his  subject.  Yet  he  has  painted  a  grand 
picture  that  rouses  the  whole  force  of  your  imagination  and 
inspires  you  with  a  terror  common  subjects  fail  to  excite.  He 
pursued  the  same  careful  course  here  as  with  '  Dentatus,'  making 
studies  of  every  limb,  even  moulding  many  to  get  at  the  prin- 
ciples of  a  standard  figure,  comparing  all  with  the  Elgin  Mar- 
bles day  by  clay,  and  painting  every  part  from  the  living  model. 
It  was  a  very  costly  process,  but  sound.  In  November,  1809, 
Sir  George  arrived  in  town,  called,  and  finding  the  picture 
greater  in  size  than  he  had  anticipated,  went  to  Wilkie  and 
begged  him  to  ask  Haydon  to  paint  on  a  smaller  scale.  This 
was  a  mistake  ;  Sir  George  should  have  spoken  himself.  The 
result  was  that,  Haydon  nettled  at  such  a  request  coming 
through  Wilkie,  and  taking  it  as  a  reflection  on  his  power  to 
paint  life-size,  declined  to  make  the  alteration.  The  figure  of 
Macbeth  was  already  greatly  advanced,  and  was  really  less  than 
the  size  of  life.  Lord  iMulgrave  then  interfered,  and  pressed 
Haydon  to  concede  the  point.  At  length  he  conceded,  though 
I  have  little  doubt  with  such  bad  grace,  that  Sir  George  now 
took  offence,  and  disregarded  the  concession.  Then  Haydon — 
out  of  regard  for  Sir  George,  he  says,  but  more  probably  out  of 
pique,  and  for  his  own  self-will,  or  perhaps  for  all  three — chose 
to  assume  Sir  George  wished  to  give  up  the  commission,  seized 
the  opportunity  to  enlarge  the  canvas  and,  painted  in  Macbeth 
the  full  size  of  life !  Sir  George  was  astounded.  And  certainly 
such  a  proceeding  had  an  unpleasant  air  of  defiance  about  it. 
I  am  afraid  my  dear  father  was  wanting  in  tact.  A  man  need 
not  adopt  that  extreme  flexibility  which  enabled  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds  to  accommodate  himself  to  the  humours  of  everybody  ; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  he  need  not  be  all  gladiator.  A  little 
adroit  management,  and  Sir  George  would  have  recovered  his 
ill-humour — would  have  seen  the  "Devonshire  lad"  was  not  to 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


47 


be  worried  like  Wilkie.  and  all  would  have  gone  well.  But  this 
terrible  '  Macbeth,'  the  full-size  of  life,  appalled  the  poor  man. 
Haydon  should  have  yielded,  and  have  painted  the  picture  the 
cabinet-size  Sir  George  wanted.  "Why  did  I  not  yield?"  Haydon 
asks  himself  thirty  years  later,  when  good  Sir  George  is  safe  in 
his  tomb — he  was  careful  not  to  put  himself  to  the  question  any 
earlier — and  he  answers  himself,  "Because  my  mind  wanted 
the  discipline  of  early  training."  The  admission  could  do  him 
no  harm  then.  But  Nemo  nascitur  sapiens,  sed  fit.  At  length 
matters  were  to  some  extent  arranged.  Sir  George  gave  way, 
and  by  the  18th  December,  1809,  I  find  Sir  George  writing 
of  some  fresh  change,  "  I  approve  of  the  alteration  extremely  ;" 
and  then,  as  if  to  give  him  good  heart  after  their  recent  mis- 
understanding, Sir  George  adds,  "Laugh  at  those  who  sneer  at 
your  perseverance.  Were  you  only  to  produce  a  few  excellent 
pictures,  how  far  better  it  is  than  disgusting  mankind  with 
cartloads  of  crude  and  undigested  works !  The  lion  produces 
but  few,  but  they  are  princely  whelps.  The  meaner  animals 
overwhelm  the  earth  with  squeaking,  grunting  reptiles.  Re- 
member the  perseverance  of  the  Grecian  sculptors.  Depend 
on  it,  one  exquisite  and  perfect  work  will  secure  all  the  advan- 
tages of  what  is  commonly  called  immortality." 

In  the  midst  of  his  labours  over  '  Macbeth,'  Lord  Mulgrave, 
in  the  spring  of  1810,  came  to  him  with  news.  The  Directors 
of  the  British  Gallery  were  about  to  offer  one  hundred  guineas 
as  a  prize  for  the  best  historical  picture  by  a  living  English 
painter.  "  Now,"  said  Lord  Mulgrave,  "  let  me  persuade  you 
to  send  '  Dentatns.'  "  Haydon  demurred,  "  unless  West,  the 
President  of  the  Royal  Academy,  is  going  to  compete."  This 
is  a  touch  of  character.  Lord  Mulgrave  explained  that  West 
would  not  compete,  but  that  Howard,  one  of  the  hangers  of 
'  Dentatus,'  was  to  be  the  Academy  champion.  Haydon  and 
Lord  Mulgrave  chuckled  over  this,  we  may  be  sure,  and  it  was 
agreed  that  '  Dentatus '  should  be  sent  to  compete.*  Wilkie, 
when  he  heard  of  this  intention,  came  down  with  his  usual 
caution — "  Do  nothing  of  the  kind.  It  is  only  just  flying  in 
the  face  of  the  Academy."  There  was  always  a  struggle  in 
Wilkie's  mind  between  his  regard  for  Haydon,  compassion  for 
his  ill-treatment,  anxiety  for  his  success,  and  profound  reverence 

*  In  his  Autobiography  Haydon  gives  a  d  ffeient  version  of  this  incident, 
Bays  that  he  "  asked  "  Lord  Mulgrave,  and  that  Lord  Mulgrave,  "  out  of  sheer 


43 


MEMOIR  OF 


for  the  authority  of  the  Royal  Academy.  Yet  in  his  heart,  I 
believe,  he  secretly  admired  Haydon's  daring  and  defiance.  It 
was  something  he  could  not  reach  himself,  but  which  dazzled 
him  in  others.  'Dentatus'  was  sent  to  the  British  Gallery 
and  hung  up  beside  Howard's  picture.  Haydon  asserts  that 
the  academicians  used  all  their  influence  to  persuade  the 
Directors  to  award  the  prize  to  Howard,  or  at  least  to  put 
'  Dentatus  '  out  of  court.  But  this  probably  partakes  of  the 
exaggeration  and  heightened  colouring  which  belong  to  such 
moments  of  excitement.  On  the  17th  May,  1810,  the  Direc- 
tors met  to  decide,  and  with  the  exception  of  Mr.  Thomas  Hope, 
unanimously  declared  '  Dentatus '  the  winner. 

Whether  Lord  fthilgrave  was  much  consoled,  I  cannot  say,  but 
fearing  the  effect  upon  his  ardent  young  protege  he  writes  him 
a  warning  letter  against  the  mephitic  vapours  of  academical  life 
and  practice,  urges  him  not  to  allow  this  success  to  lull  him 
into  "a  false  security,"  nor  lead  him  to  "abandon  his  high 
aims  ;"  and  then  he  nailed  up  '  Dentatus '  in  a  deal  case,  and 
never  looked  at  it,  nor  allowed  Haydon  to  look  at  it  for  two 
years. 

That  the  Directors'  decision  reinstated  Haydon  in  his  own 
good  opinion,  if  he  had  ever  lost  it,  is  only  reasonable  to  sup- 
pose. And  had  the  Academy  accepted  the  defeat  of  its  cham- 
pion, and  said  no  more  about  the  mortifying  miscarriage  of 
their  expectations,  all  might  have  been  well.  But  no,  they 
were  intractable  ;  the  defeat  was  a  planned  result.  The  fact 
of  sending  'Dentatus'  to  compete  with  their  champion  was  an 
act  of  constructive  rebellion,  and  Haydon  should  be  punished 
at  the  first  opportunity.  If,  as  Fuller  says,  "  it  is  pleasant 
music  to  hear  disarmed  malice  threaten  when  it  cannot  strike," 
Haydon  must  have  enjoyed  a  sweet  concert  at  this  moment. 
Whether  envy  and  jealousy  be  vices  more  incident  to  painting 
than  any  other  profession  I  do  not  know ;  but  of  this  I  feel  no 
doubt,  that  from  this  moment  no  man  was  more  hated  than 
Haydon.  Envy,  hatred,  and  malice  stuck  to  him  for  the  rest 
of  his  life  like  his  shadow.  So  far  Wilkie  was  right  in  his 
advice,  for  the  Academy  had  always  the  Octagon-room  in 

pity,"  allowed  him  to  try  for  the  prize.  All  this  is  wholly  incorrect,  I  have 
icason  to  know,  and,  indeed,  as  his  own  Journal  of  the  day  sufluieiitlv  allows. 
This  is  only  one  of  many  instances  of  the  lazy  and  inaccurate  manner  in  which  ho 
wrote  his  Life,  without  reierriug  back  to  his  early  Journals,  a  luhour  which 
evidently,  under  the  influence  of  momentary  impressions,  "boied"  him.— Eu. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


reserve,  and  thus  it  came  to  pass  that,  when  Haydon  mainly, 
I  suspect,  by  Wilkie's  advice,  and  with  the  view  probably  to 
test  the  feeiing  of  the  Academy,  sent  in  a  small  cabinet 
picture  of  'Borneo  and  Juliet '  for  the  exhibition  of  1810,  the 
Academy  hangers  immediately  put  it  into  the  darkest  corner 
of  the  Octagon-room !  Haydon,  hearing  from  1*  useli  of  this 
fresh  indignity,  was  as  much  diverted  as  angered,  and  going 
down  to  the  Academy  in  person,  unhung  his  picture,  and  car- 
ried it  home  with  him  in  a  hackney  coach.  This  was  the  last 
he  sent  to  the  Academy  for  sixteen  years.  Wilkie,  in  his 
diary,  says  that  Haydon  sent  iwo  pictures  on  this  occasion,  and 
that  both  were  hung  in  the  Octagon-room  ;  if  so,  it  only  aggra- 
vates the  offence,  but  1  can  only  trace  this  one. 

This,  with  the  previous  affair  over  the  '  Dentatus,'  and  his 
own  rejection  as  an  Associate,  convinced  Haydon,  as  it  would 
convince  most  men,  that  if  he  persevered  with  Ideal  art,  his 
career  did  not  lie  through  our  Royal  Academy.  There  was  a 
latent  opposition  between  the  spirit  of  the  Royal  Academy 
and  the  spirit  of  ideal  art.  Their  great  instrument  for  the 
promotion  of  art  was  the  exaltation  of  portrait ;  and  certainly 
where  opportunity  for  creative  art  is  wanting,  portrait  may  be, 
and  often  is,  the  only  means  of  preserving  the  national  interest 
in  art.  Rut  we  had  got  beyond  this  in  1810,  and,  moreover,  a 
Royal  Academy  is  established,  and  ours  was  expressly  esta- 
blished for  the  purpose  of  encouraging  and  supporting  art  in 
all  its  branches,  and  of  enabling  painters  to  bring  their  works 
before  the  public.  Hence  without  meaning  any  reference  to 
Haydon,  it  seems  prejudicial  that  a  society,  established  for 
such  general  purposes,  should  take  upon  itself  to  consider  any 
style  of  art,  not  indecent,  as  distasteful  to  the  public.  Haydon's 
style  of  high  art  might  not  harmonize  with  the  art  of  the 
academicians.  So  much  the  better  for  them,  I  should  have 
thought,  and  certainly  for  the  public.  But  in  any  case  they 
should  not  have  put  themsel  ves  in  the  position  of  being  afraid  to 
challenge  a  fair  comparison.  Resides,  there  is  something 
grotesque  in  an  institution  regarding  itself  as  fixed  in  authority 
to  put  down  everybody  and  everything  it  happens  to  dislike. 
As  regards  Haydon,  the  object  of  the  majority,  in  the  complete 
and  evident  absence  of  any  other  grounds  alleged  for  his  rejec- 
tion, seems  clear.  It  was  to  force  him  out  of  the  practice  of  ideal 
art  into  that  of  portrait.  This  was  easier  plotted  than  done.  As 


55 


MEMOIR  OF 


La  Fontaine  tells  us,  it  is  no  difficult  matter  to  sell  the  bear's 
skin ;  but,  the  question  is,  how  will  the  bear  stand  skinning  ?  I 
have  little  douU,  from  what  I  have  since  heard  and  read,  the 
academicians  counted  upon  stripping  Haydon  in  time,  but  they 
had  not  yet  got  over  the  prelim'  nxry  step  of  muzzling  him. 
What  in  effect  they  said  was,  "  You  are  possessed  of  certain 
opinions  upon  art  which  we  do  not  hold  with.  It  would  injure 
our  '  custom '  to  allow  you  to  practise  that  art  within  our  out- 
ward-bounds. If  you  wish  to  exhibit  with  us,  you  must  there- 
fore suppress  your  convictions  for  our  convenience,  abandon 
your  High  Art,  and  not  in  future  presume  to  have  any  opinion 
of  your  own.  If  you  will  do  this,  we  shall  be  happy  to  pat 
you  on  the  back  and  see  what  can  be  done  for  any  portrait 
you  may  send,  and  in  due  time,  perhaps,  we  may  confer  upon 
you  the  honour  of  election." 

No  one  can.  feel  surprise  at  Haydon  rejecting  a  patronage 
laden  with  such  conditions.  They  might  as  well  have  pro- 
posed to  take  the  eyes  out  of  his  head,  and  offer  him  their 
spectacles  as  an  equivalent.  Hut  so  it  was.  Just  as  Haydon 
was  brooding  over  all  this,  and  considering  whether  any  amount 
of  grafting  could  assimilate  his  views  of  art  with  the  views  of 
this  arbitrary  club  of  pretentious  pedants,  to  whom  art  was 
nothing  but  a  money-making  machine,  came  that  singular 
intrigue  of  West,  Shee,  Phillips,  and  others,  to  drive  poor 
humble,  harmless  Wilkie  out  of  his  beautiful  style  of  genre 
painting  into  portrait,  wherein  it  was  clearly  foreseen  he  must 
fail. 

I  refer  to  the  famous  Bird  and  Wilkie  case,  mentioned  by 
Cunningham  in  his  'Life  of  Wilkie.'*  This  Hird  and  Wilkie 
business  was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  an  intrigue  got  up  by 
the  portrait  academicians  of  1810  against  Wilkie.  Leslie  in 
his  memoirs  gives  a  garbled  account  of  it,  with  the  evident 
design  of  screening  the  Academy,  and  of  throwing  the  blame 

*  The  Academy  was  jealous  of  Wilkie,  although  he  was  then,  1810,  one  of  their 
own  Forty.  Institutions  do  sometimes  show  jealousy  of  g.nius,  and  if  a  mnn 
shows  a  disposition  to  think  for  himself,  tl  at  is  a  crime  never  forgiven.  The 
s  eret  of  success  in  managing  a  corporate  body,  seems  to  be  never  to  go  beyond 
the  general  apprehension.  Any  propositi  n  beyond  the  average  calilire  of  minds 
you  have  to  deal  with,  is  received  as  a  reflection  on  the  general  understanding. 
Enthusiasm  is  n  nuisance,  and  zenl  a  concealed  reproof  on  the  iipatliy  of  the 
m  jonty.  It  is  the  same  in  all  corporate  bodies — art.  science,  literature,  or  public 
departments  The  explanation.  I  suppose,  is  that,  there  is  so  much  more  'mock 
turtle '  than  'real'  in  the  world.it  is  very  difficult  to  decide  in  a  given  case 
whi.h  of  the  two  one  is  dealiug  with.— Ed. 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


5' 


upon  Haydon,  but  I  believe  the  facts  to  be  these.  Bird, 
a  new  man  from  Bristol,  of  considerable  talent,  but  no  match 
for  Wilkie  either  in  humour  or  mechanical'  excellence,  had 
some  pretty  bits  of  cottage  life  for  exhibition  in  1810.  Wilkie, 
it  so  happened,  had  nothing  ready  for  that  exhibition  but 
a  little  picture  of  a  man  teasing  a  girl  by  pr.tting  on  her 
cap.  Haydon,  having  some  intimation  of  what  was  intended, 
advised  Wilkie  not  to  send  this  sketch  to  exhibition,  as  it 
was  not  fully  equd  to  his  high  reputation.  Unfortunately, 
Wilkie,  who  had  sufficient  good  sense  in  general  to  follow 
sound  advice,  was  not  always  sufficiently  self-contained  to 
resist  being  led  astray  by  interested  men.  A  certain  person 
persuaded  him  to  send  it  in.  He  sent  it  in,  and  then  began 
the  intrigue.  West,  who  always  seems  to  have  mixed  him- 
self up  in  these  transactions,  hurried  off  to  Sir  George 
Beaumont  and  urged  him  to  send  for  Wilkie  and  advise  him 
to  remove  his  picture,  or  Bird  would  extinguish  him.  Sir 
George  at  once  sent  for  Wilkie,  and  told  him  West's  opinion. 
Wilkie  in  an  agony  of  doubt  flew  to  Haydon  for  counsel. 
"  No,"  said  Haydon,  "  don't  remove  it  now  it  is  there.  You 
promised  me  not  to  send  it,  but  now  you  have  sent  it,  keep  it 
there."  Wilkie  promised  to  be  firm.  In  an  evil  hour  he 
listened  again  to  the  voice  of  the  stray  charmer,  went  down  to 
the  Academy,  and  met  with  the  fate  which  befel  that  certain 
man  who  once  went  down  from  Jerusalem  to  Jericho.  Shee 
caught  him  by  the  button-hole,  the  others  crowded  up,  and  while 
they  "would  not  permit  me,"  he  told  Haydon,  "to  see  Bird's 
pictures,"  persuaded  him  he  had  "  no  chance  "  against  his  new 
antagonist,  and  urged  him  by  all  means  to  remove  his  own. 
Wilkie  yielded,  took  away  his  picture,  and  that  night  it  was 
all  over  London,  Wilkie  had  acknowledged  himself  defeated. 
"  The  Academy  Council,"  Haydon  says,  "  were  in  an  ecstasy  of 
affected  concern  for  'poor  Wilkie'  who  was  afraid  of  public 
judgment." 

On  the  private  day  Wilkie  went  down  with  Haydon,  ex- 
amined Bird's  pictures,  and  said  at  once,  "  If  I  had  known  this, 
I  never  would  have  taken  mine  away."  Bird's  pictures  Haydon 
pronounces  to  have  been  extremely  clever,  but  far  inferior  even 
to  Wilkie's  sketch.  Allan  Cunningham,  in  his  '  Life  of  Wilkie,' 
confirms  this.  "  1  here  can  be  no  doubt,"  he  says,  "  that  the 
picture  which  he  too  rashly  withdrew  would  have  maintained 

E  2 


MEMOIR  OF 


his  position  in  art  against  all  opposition,"  and  Sir  George 
Beaumont  regretfully  expressed  the  same  opinion.  But 
Wilkie's  humiliation  was  not  yet  complete.  West  suggested 
to  the  Prince  Hegent  to  buy  one  of  Bird's  pictures  and  to 
command  Wilkie  to  "paint  a  companion"  to  it.  This  addi- 
tional indignity  cut  Willde  to  the  heart.  He  fell  seriously  ill. 
"  I  never  saw  a  man,"  writes  Haydon,  "  suffer  so  much."  One 
evening  when  Haydon  called  and  was  admitted  with  a  caution 
as  to  Wilkie's  danger,  he  found  him  "lying  on  the  sofa  in  an 
attitude  of  the  completest  despair  I  ever  witnessed.  His  head 
was  leaning  on  one  hand.  He  had  a  Prayer  Book  near  him, 
and  his  whole  air  was  that  of  a  man  who  had  taken  a  new  and 
a  terrible  view  of  human  nature."  It  was  many  weeks  before 
Wilkie  was  out  of  danger,  and  then  Sir  George  and  Lady 
Beaumont  took  him  down  to  Dunmow,  and  nursed  him  as  if 
he  was  their  own  child.  After  this,  Wilkie  gradually  withdrew 
from  his  old  and  beautiful  style  of  cottage  life  art  to  go  ulti- 
mately into  portrait,  in  which  he  failed.  "  He  never  painted 
again  as  he  had  before,"  writes  Haydon  ;  "his  subsequent  works 
are  by  no  means  to  be  taken  as  specimens  of  his  own  honest 
conviction  that  he  was  honestly  doing  what  he  was  best  fitted 
to  do.    He  went  abroad,  and  came  back  a  negation  in  art." 

All  this  deeply  affected  Wilkie's  old  friend.  "I  date  my 
disgust  at  the  mean  passions  of  the  art,"  writes  Haydon, 
"from  this  moment."  The  best  men  in  the  Academy,  Fuseli, 
Lawrence,  Northcote,  Stothard,  and  a  few  others,  were  power- 
less. The  authority  of  8hee,  Phillips,  Howard,  and  their  por- 
trait majority  was  supreme,  and  their  aim  perfectly  clear  that 
the  chief  merit  in  art  should  be  strictly  a  virtue  of  portrait 
painters.  No  other  style  of  art  was  to  be  permitted  to  take  its 
proper  rank. 

It  is  from  this  incident  we  may  date  Haydon's  resolution  to 
withdraw  himself  from  all  official  connection  with  the  Royal 
Academy.  Wilkie,  as  we  might  expect,  endeavours  hard  to 
dissuade  him.  Years  afterwards,  in  1824,  Wilkie  said  to 
Bewick,  "Haydon  should  have  waited  patiently  and  have  got 
into  the  Academy,  then  he  could  have  taken  a  terrible  retalia- 
tion if  he  liked."  This  was  Wilkie's  view,  but  it  was  not 
sound.  The  question  is,  would  the  portrait  painters  have 
given  Haydon  the  opportunity  ?  would  they  have  let  him  in  ? 
In  1809  we  have  seen  that  they  unanimously  refused  admis- 


B.  R.  HAYDON 


53 


sion  to  him.  Had  their  objections  to  him  and  his  art  dimi- 
nished? In  1810  another  vacancy  occurred,  and  Haydon  says 
he  did  not  receive  a  single  vote.  Arnold  was  elected,  and 
in  1811  we  know  Haydon  was  not.  All  this  was  sufficiently 
significant.  To  have  put  up  again,  and  to  have  been  again 
rejected,  or  to  exhibit  again  and  have  another  picture  hung 
in  the  Octagon-room,  would  have  done  Haydon  serious  pro- 
fessional injury.  Society  is  so  cowardly  it  is  always  more 
ready  to  believe  that,  where  forty  men  apparently  unite  in  r<  >n- 
demning  one,  the  one  man  must  be  to  blame  rather  than  the 
forty  men  should  be  mistaken  in  blaming  him.  It  is  not 
always  the  right  conclusion,  but  it  was  generally  adopted  in 
Haydon's  case,  and  is  never  inconvenient. 

In  my  humble  judgment  there  was  no  other  course  open  to 
Haydon  but  to  withdraw  from  the  Academy.  I  am  only 
astonished  at  his  resolve  to  appeal  against  the  indiscriminate 
respect  paid  to  its  authority,  to  expose  its  abuses  and  corrup- 
tion, and  to  call  upon  the  public  to  demand  its  reform,  not 
being  arrived  at  earlier.  Considering  the  treatment  he  had 
been  subjected  to  since  1807,  I  am  surprised  at  his  self-control. 

In  the  course  of  1811  Haydon  says  he  confided  his  views 
and  intentions  to  Wilkie,  and  to  Leigh  Hunt,  with  whom  he 
had  just  been  engaged  in  a  public  controversy  on  the  physical 
construction  of  the  negro,  an  effort  that  consolidated  Haydon's 
power  of  verbal  expression.  Hunt,  with  the  true  relish  of  an 
editor  for  a  fresh  pen  on  a  new  subject,  warmly  encouraged  the 
project,  and  placed  his  paper,  the  '  Examiner,'  at  Haydon's 
disposal.  Willue,  with  his  natural  reverence  for  authority  and 
his  natural  incapacity  for  a  bold  action,  earnestly  dissuaded 
Haydon  from  anything  of  the  kind.  "  Hunt,"  said  he,  "  gets 
his  living  by  such  things,  you  will  lose  all  chance  of  it." 
There  was  this  risk,  of  course  ;  but  when  Wilkie  went  on  to  sav, 
"  Be  an  art  reformer  if  you  like,  but  be  one  with  your  pencil 
and  not  with  your  pen,"  he  forgot  that  matters  had  come  to 
such  a  pass  in  the  art,  nobody  but  a  reformer  with  his  pen 
could  hope  to  effect  any  reform  with  the  pencil.  Even  Wilkie 
could  not  deny  that  since  the  deaths  of  Romney  and  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds,  British  art  had  been  undergoing  a  gradual 
process  of  degradation  and  decay,  to  which  the  lioyal  Academy 
had  apparently  become  reconciled,  and  which,  judging  from 
their  conduct,  it  seemed  they  rather  liked.    Nor  does  he  deny 


54 


MEMOIR  OF 


that  it  is  hopeless  to  expect  a  society,  so  constituted,  to 
effectually  reform  itself.  Close  corporations,  he  knew,  never 
spontaneously  improve  to  any  purpose.  But,  nevertheless,  I 
can  quite  understand  that  although  Wilkie  wished  the  reform 
made,  he  did  not  wish  it  to  be  made  by  one  with  whom  he  was 
so  intimately  connected — then  almost  related  to— as  Haydori. 
Into  his  motives  we  need  not  look.  Men  rarely  act  from  a 
single  and  disinterested  motive.  His  nature  was  against  con- 
tention, and  he  wished  Haydon  to  work  on  peaceably  with  him. 

In  addition  to  Leigh  Hunt,  I  find  that  Chantrey,  the  sculp- 
tor, and  Soane,  the  architect,  and  Collins,  the  painter,  to  whom 
Haydon  was  much  attached,  all  three  united  to  press  Haydon 
to  take  up  his  pen.  No  other  artist  could  write  as  well,  and 
there  was  none  so  thoroughly  master  of  the  subject  as  he.  But 
these  were  not  wholly  disinterested  advisers.  Soane  was  an 
academician,  Collins  and  Chantrey  wanted  to  be.  Their  bosoms 
burned  with  an  incensed  fire  of  opposite  injuries.  Soane  was 
even  writing  a  pamphlet  against  the  academical  abuses,  and 
the  feelings  of  Collins  had  been  grossly  outraged  by  the  hang- 
ing of  one  of  his  best  pictures  at  the  exhibition  of  1811.* 
Nevertheless  Haydon  believed  them  to  be  as  sincere  as  himself. 
Perhaps  they  were.  At  least  one  would  wish  to  believe  them 
so,  but  when  their  "trial"  came,  when  "they  should  endure  the 
bloody  spur/'  they  sunk,  like  the  rest  of  Brutus's  "  hollow  men.'' 
They  proved  to  be  rays  only  of  uncertain  light,  that  disappeared 
in  the  distractions  of  the  academical  atmosphere,  to  re-appear 
— on  the  opposite  side. 

There  was  one  other  behind  the  scenes  who  probably  had 
more  to  do  with  the  appearance  of  the  "Three  Betters."'  and 
whose  repeated  expressions  of  contempt  against  the  Academy 
had  a  greater  effect  upon  Haydon  than  is  usually  supposed. 
This  was  Lord  Mulgrave. 

It  was  under  these  ardent  influences  the  year  1811  fever- 
shly  passed,  Haydon  working  vigorously  at  his  picture  of 

*  The  picture  was  hung  below  the  bar,  just  off  the  fiVr.  Collins  was  so 
wounded  by  the  indignity  that  he  addressed  an  official  letter  to  the  Council,  pro- 
1c>tiiTJC  against  "the  degrading  situation"  given  to  his  picture  and  demanding 
permission  to  phw  easing  in  front  of  it,  in  order  "to  protect  the  frame  and  the 
picture  from  the  ki  ks  of  the  crowd."  Mr.  Howard,  R.A.,  replied  on  behalf  of 
the  Council,  grant'ng  the  required  permission,  and  with  an  exquisite  urbanity, 
assisted  by  slight  sarcasm,  expressing  his  "surprise  that  Mr.  Collins  should 
consider  the  position  of  the  picture  ' degrading,'  inasmuch  as  the  hanging  com- 
mittee had  thought  it  complimentary." — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


'Macbeth,'  to  finish  it,*  and  leave  him  free.  From  time  to 
time  he  seems  to  have  dallied  with  the  Academy  business, 
starting  difficulties  in  the  temper  of  one  who  felt  the  chances 
were  singularly  against  him,  yet  wished  to  have  the  difficulties 
undervalued.  The  question  with  him,  however,  was  not  what 
is  the  best  thing  for  me  to  do,  but  what  will  benefit  the  art 
most — my  silence  or  my  exposure  of  these  intrigues  and 
abuses':"  Consequences  to  him  were  like  squalls  against  the 
solid  rock,  that  shook  not.  And  as  to  gaining  notoriety,  I  feel 
confident  that  never  occurred  to  him,  or  if  it  did,  he  saw  it 
would  be  unenviable,  for  no  man  better  understood  the  way  to 
rise  to  rapid  celebrity  is  not  to  attack  a  popular  delusion,  but 
rather  to  defend  the  prevailing  doctrine  which  society  likes  to 
believe,  but  has  no  good  reason  for  believing  in.  To  echo  and 
serve  prevalent  prejudices,  he  says,  is  the  "  surest  road "  to 
reward.  But  applause  and  reward  was  not  what  Haydon  was 
aiming  at.  He  had  a  definite  public  purpose  in  view,  viz.,  to 
break  up  the  supremacy  of  the  portrait  painters  in  the  Royal 
Academy,  and  on  the  ruins  of  their  power  raise  the  taste  of 
the  nation  by  giving  greater  support  and  space  to  ideal  art  in 
every  branch,  by  using  the  influence  of  the  Academy  to  secure 
the  establishment  of  public  galleries  of  art,  particularly  of 
native  art,  and  of  schools  of  design,  local  and  central,  and  by 
further  efforts  in  a  direction  which  he  trusted  would  have  the 
effect  of  awakening  the  epic  and  dramatic  spirit  amongst  the 
students  and  painters,  and  thus  exciting  the  reverence,  and  sym- 
pathies, and  high  feeling  of  the  British  public  for  their  native 
art.  It  was  not  that  Haydon  was,  as  he  has  been  erroneously 
represented,  "  the  determined  enemy  of  the  Academy ;"  but  of 
the  abuses  and  paltriness  into  which  it  had  been  sunk.  No 
man  more  heartily  recognised  the  great  services  of  the  Academy 
to  art  in  the  latter  half  of  the  last  century,  or  more  generously 
bore  testimony  to  the  genius  and  skill  of  a  distinguished 
minority  among  its  then  living  members.  But  he  also 
thoroughly  understood  the  mischievous  action  of  its  existing 
majority,  who  had  no  feeling  for  art  beyond  what  they  could 
gain  by  it,  and  who  were  banded  together  to  keep  out  or  suppress 

*  As  an  instance  of  his  extraordinary  courage  and  perse \  erance,  it  is  the  fiict 
that  when  he  had  finibhed  the  figure  of  Macbeth,  not  being  phased  with  its 
I .<>,  i t i.  m,  he  took  it  completely  out,  in  order  to  raise  it  higher  in  the  eauvas. 
Wilkie  and  Seguier  luoki  d  on  in  wonder,  but  both  admitted  the  gre  ter  etiect 
and  improvement  of  the  ch  mge,  though  neither  would  have  made  it. — Ed. 


56 


MEMOIR  OF 


those  who  had.  Full  of  his  determination,  Hay  don  now  finished 
'  Macbeth,'  and  by  the  end  of  January  1st,  1812.  sent  it  to  the 
British  Gallery  to  compete  for  the  three  hundred  guinea  prize. 
Then  he  deliberately  took  up  his  pen  to  try  and  obtain  a 
reform  of  the  Eoyal  Academy. 

Three  letters,  signed  "an  English  Student,"  suddenly  and 
successively  appeared  in  the  'Examiner'  newspaper  for  the 
26th  January  ;  2nd,  and  9th  February,  1812;  and  never  before 
nor  since  has  the  art  of  England  been  thrown  into  such  an 
uproar.*    The  burst  of  official  fury  M  as  so  great,  so  alarming, 

*  Before  the  appearance  of  the  first  letter  Sir  George  Beaumont  had  come  to 
London,  s  en  the  '  Macbeth '  sit  the  liriti.-h  Gallery,  where  h-  admitte  I  it  kept  its 
place  well  against  the  'Paul  Veronese,'  but  said  it  was  too  large  for  any  room  he 
had  at  Cole-Orton,  and  on  the  29th  of  January  wrote  to  Hay  Ion  to  decline  its 
possession,  according  to  their  understanding,  but  offering  10(1/  towards  expens  s, 
and  a  commission  for  a  smaller  picture,  the  price  to  he  settled  by  arbitiation. 
Haydon  petulantly  rejected  both  offers,  s  aid  lie  would  "  keep  the  '  Macbeth,'  and 
would  not  paint  another  picture  on  any  account  for  Sir  George."  I  suspect  him  to 
have  b.en  nettled  by  the  abuse  lavished  on  the  picture  by  West  ;md  the  acade- 
micians, by  whom,  he  thinks,  Sir  George  has  been  influenced.  Possibly  so;  or 
perh  i  ps  the  letter  of  the  26th  of  January  may  have  had  seme  effect,  for  of  "all  men 
Sir  George  must  have  known  Haydon' s  style  and  opinions,  especially  upon  such 
a  subject  as  Mr.  Payne  Knight's  essay,  which  they  had  doubtless  often  discussed. 
Anyhow  the  excuse  that  he  had  no  room  at  Cole-Orton  will  not  stand.  But  the 
•whole  affair  was  an  unhappy  business  and  was  unquestionably  the  origin  of 
llaydon's  pecuniary  troubles.  Before  he  began  'Macbeth'  he  owed  nothing. 
On  the  day  Sir  George  Beaumont  refitted  to  purchase  it  be  was  nearly  5007.  in 
d.bt,  the  price  he  put  upon  the  picture.  In  explanation  of  his  "  three  letters  " 
to  the  'Examiner,'  Haydon  in  his  Autobiography,  written  tlrrlv  years  later,  says 
1hat  Sir  George's  unexpected  refusal  to  purchase  'Macbeth,'  the  abuse  of  the 
picture  by  West  and  the  academical  party,  and  his  own  pecuniary  predicament, 
exasperat.d  him  to  that  degree,  "an  attack  upon  the  Academy  darted  into  his 
heal."  But  this  lays  more  at  Sir  George's  door  than  Sir  George  can  claim, 
while  it  is  just  another  of  those  curious  and  illusive  errors  of  imagination  with 
wh.ch  llaydon's  Autobiography  sibounds.  Nothing  can  be  fuither  from  the  facts. 
In  the  first  place  his  habit  of  c  imposition  was,  that  he  wrote  and  corre;  te  I  in  Irs 
head  before  he  put  pen  to  paper.  And  a  careful  examination  of  Irs  MSS.  and 
private  correspondence  at  this  period  shows  that  he  had  publ shed  his  ffst  letter 
three  days  before  he  had  received  Sir  George's  offer.  By  that  time  the  second 
letter  must  ha  e  been  in  the  printer's  hands,  and  the  thiid  already  in  his  mind. 


lids  institution  in  its  existieg  form  a's  semetbing  in  the  light  of  Milton's  Sin  :— 


"  Woman 
Dut  ending  foi 


.he  waist,  and  fair, 
many  a  scaly  fold.* 


B  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


57 


that  Soane's  courage  failed  him.  He  suppressed  his  pamphlet, 
clung  to  the  Academy,  and  left  Haydon  to  fight  the  battle 
unaided.  Chantrey  catching  the  panic,  stopped  short  of 
schism  and  separation,  and  threw  Haydon  overboard  after  a 
moment's  hesitation.  And  Collins,  what  becomes  of  the  faith- 
ful Collins  does  not  immediately  appear,  but  that  he  too  shrank 
from  the  logical  deduction  of  his  complaints,  and  went  down 
into  the  deep  profound,  to  come  up  like  Chantrey  in  future 
years  a  Eoyal  Academician,  is  equally  sad,  and  equally  true. 
Had  the  four  held  together,  their  weight  would  have  been 
irresistible,  the  Academy  would  have  been  reformed,  and  the 
art  advanced  by  fifty  years.  Then  came  a  fresh  defection.  The 
editors  of  the  '  Examiner,'  besieged  by  angry  and  vindictive 
academicians  and  connoisseurs,  in  a  moment  of  weakness  gave 
up  the  name  of  the  "  English  Student."  In  the  then  existing 
state  of  society  nothing  more  was  requisite.  Haydon  forgave 
these  equivocal  acts  of  his  friends  with  his  accustomed  gene- 
rosity. He  knew  the  necessities  of  editors,  and  he  never  thought 
evil  of  any  man.  But  he  immediately  foresaw  that  a  hard  and 
long  struggle  was  now  before  him.  He  had  brought  forty  men 
upon  his  back  with  all  the  rich  men  behind  them,  and  he 
might  rely  on  it  they  would  show  him  no  mercy.  Neverthe- 
less he  seems  to  have  felt  satisfied  that,  whatever  the  inter- 
mediate consequences  to  him,  the  contest  must  ultimately 
resolve  itself  into  a  struggle  between  the  exclusive  domination 
of  forty  academicians  and  the  national  intellect.  In  the  end 
the  Academy  would  be  purified,  the  art  freed,  and  the  public 
taste  raised.  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  Sir  George  Beaumont, 
Mr.  Locke,  Mr.  Thomas  Hope,  and  many  others  expressed  the 
same  opinion ;  but  they  never  forgave  Haydon  for  writing  the 
"  letters." 

I  have  no  doubt  that  mateiials  for  an  indictment  against  the  Academy  had  been 
iincon.-eiouslv  accumulating  in  llavdon's  mind  for  many  years.  Every  fresh 
conversation\vith  Kuseli,  Jackson,  Wdkic,  and  Iiell,  only  gave  them  colour  and 
form,  and  the  "Bird  and  WilUie"  scandal,  in  1810,  brought  them  to  maturity. 
He  seems  to  have  been  resolved  from  that  moment  to  seize  an  oppoit  unity  to 
appe  d  to  the  public.  In  1812  the  opportunity  occurred,  aud  he  took  it  Hence 
it  was  from  no  sudden  inspiration,  but  with  settled  views  and  firm  convictions 
Haydon  took  the  field,  and  solely,  I  believe,  in  the  public  interest.  For  his  own 
private  interests  nothing  could  he  more  fatal.  For  it  was  impossible  he  could 
long  preserve  his  incognito,  and  that,  once  broken,  the  pe  ice  of  his  life  and  his 
pio^pects  of  employment  were  fatally  impeiillcd.  Hatred  and  contention  would 
cling  to  him  for  life,  his  talents  would  be  denied,  his  motives  impugned,  and 
himself  deprived  of  employment  on  every  convenient  opportunity.  —Eu. 


53 


MEMOIR  OF 


The  "  Three  Letters  "  are  well  known.  They  are  too  long-  to 
quote  in  full,  and,  as  they  review  all  parties  and  persons  in  the 
art  of  that  period,  have  lost  much  of  their  interest.  But  on 
certain  main  questions  still  at  issue,  it  may  be  permitted  to 
quote  from  them.  They  are  well  written,  clearly,  and  with 
warmth.  The  first  letter  deals  with  the  connoisseurs,  and  the 
injurious  influence  they  often  exercise  upon  art  by  mistaking 
their  knowledge  for  natural  taste  and  genius.  Haydon  takes 
up  Mr.  Payne  Knight,  his  old  opponent  on  the  Elgin  Marbles, 
the  leading  connoisseur,  a  distinguished  scholar,  and  eminent 
collector  of  that  day,  as  a  case  in  point.  Mr.  Payne  Knight 
had  enormous  influence  on  the  art  just  then.  In  an  unlucky 
moment  he  had  written  an  essay  on  Barry,  the  painter,  and 
his  works  ;  and  Haydon  reviews  the  opinions  Mr.  Payne  Knight 
expressed  therein,  shows  conclusively  that  many  of  those 
opinions  are  narrow,  mistaken,  injurious  to  the  true  interests 
of  English  art,  and  calculated  to  mislead  our  students.  On  the 
question  of  scale  in  painting,  he  convicts  Mr.  Payne  Knight  of 
self-evident  contradictions,  and  worse — of  absolute  dishonesty 
in  his  quotations  from  Pliny  to  support  his  own  hostility  to  gran- 
deur of  scale,  and  prove  his  own  assertion  that  the  greatest 
Greek  painters  confined  themselves  "  to  tabular  pictures  which 
could  not  be  great."  This  exposure  Mr.  Payne  Knight  never 
got  over,  and  never  forgave.  But  it  was  certainly  well  deserved. 
Haydon  then  goes  on  to  show  Mr.  Payne  Knight's  further 
assertion  that  "greater  accuracy  and  elegance  of  detail  is 
required  in  small  works,"  to  be  most  erroneous  and  misleading, 
greater  accuracy  being  de  facto  required  for  large  works, 
because  the  principles  of  painting  on  a  grand  scale  are  to  take 
only  the  leading  characteristics  of  things.  Therefore  in  great 
works  on  a  grand  scale  the  greatest  knowledge,  accuracy,  and 
power  is  required.  "  Painting  on  a  small  scale,"  writes  Haydon, 
"  affords  more  means  of  hiding  defects  and  of  concealing  a  want 
of  information  than  painting  on  a  scale  where  nothing  can 
escape  the  eye."  But  then,  says  Haydon,  comes  "the  real 
secret"  of  Mr.  Payne  Knight's  hostility  to  grandeur  of  scale. 
'•  The  manner  of  furnishing  rooms  to  make  them  comfortable 
in  a  northern  climate,  excludes  very  large  pictures."  "  Here," 
says  Haydon,  "  comes  at  least  the  unanswerable  argument.  I 
dispute  not  such  an  irrefutable  reason  as  it  regards  yon 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


or  me  as  individuals;  but  because  your  rooms  are  small, 
do  not  sophisticate  and  attempt  to  prove  that  great  works 
on  a  grand  scale  are  not  necessary  to  England  as  a  great 
nation.  Want  of  room  for  great  pictures  !  Why,  are  not  the 
halls  and  staircases  of  the  nobility  empty  ?  Are  not  the 
public  offices,  the  Ordnance,  the  Admiralty,  the  House  of 
Commons,  the  House  of  Lords,  empty?  Let  us  hear  no 
more  of  want  of  space.  It  is  not  want  of  space,  but  want  of 
elevation  of  mind.1' 

Mr.  Payne  Knight  had  also  asserted  that  "  the  end  of  art  is 
to  please."  "  No,  sir,"  replies  Haydon  ;  "  the  end  of  art  is  to 
instruct  by  pleasing."  Mr.  Payne  Knight  had  further  main- 
tained that  it  is  "  the  most  absurd  of  all  absurd  notions  to 
affirm  that  painting  can  convey  religious,  moral,  or  political 
instruction.  Can  painting  really  excite  pity,  or  terror,  or  1  »ve, 
or  benevolence?"  contemptuously  asks  Mr.  Payne  Knight. 
"  Can  it  really  stimulate  a  man  to  heroism,  or  urge  a  man  to 
repentance,  or  show  the  horrors  of  guilt,  or  the  delights  of 
virtue  ?"  "  No,  sir,"  replies  Haydon,  "  certainly  not,  in  such 
minds.  Pictures  with  such  properties  would  pass  unheeded 
by,  did  they  hang  near  a  red  herring  by  Jan  Mieris,  or  a 
Turkey  carpet  by  Gerard  Dow." 

The  second  and  third  letters  deal  with  the  Royal  Academy. 
Haydon  sets  out  by  declaring  the  King,  in  giving  his  support 
to  the  Eoyal  Academy,  to  be  "  lending  his  protection  to  the 
promotion  of  error."  He  shows  that  the  chief  use  of  Academies 
of  art  is  as  schools  of  art  to  regulate,  direct,  and  aid  pupils.* 
He  points  out  that  since  the  death  of  Reynolds,  our  Royal 
Academy  has  greatly  failed  in  this  pre-eminent  duty  by  reason 
of  want  of  due  qualifications  in  the  members,  by  reason  of  their 
deplorable  ignorance  of  drawing,  their  lack  of  fundamental 
knowledge  in  all  technical  excellencies  of  their  profession,  and 
their  then  utter  want  of  sincerity  and  feeling  for  art.  He  gives 
instances  of  their  abuse  of  power;  he  calls  attention  to  the 
execrable  character  of  the  academical  monuments  and  effigies 
"that  disgrace  St.  Paul's  and  Westminster  Abbey ;  he  points 

*  This  was  quite  the  opinion  of  Sir  Jo>hua  Reynolds.  In  his  Inst  discour  e 
I  find  Sir  Joshua  enforces  Ihis  view.  "I  have  taken  every  opportunity,"  he 
tays,  "of  recommending  a  national  method  of  study  as  of  the  last  importance. 
The  great,  I  may  say  the  sole,  use  of  an  academy  is  to  put,  and  for  some  timo  to 
keep,  students  to  that  course." — Ed. 


6o 


MEMOIR  OF 


out  their  neglect  of  all  means  to  spread  a  knowledge  of  true 
principles  of  art  and  design  among  the  people;  he  ridicules 

their  annual  exhibitions— a  mere  market  for  saleable  goods  

"  a  splendid  effusion  of  red  curtains,  where  each  academician 
tries  to  out-glare  his  neighbour  by  red-lead  and  king's-yellow, 
instead  of  out-do  him  by  fine  forms,  fine  outline,  fine  character, 
and  refined  expression  ;"  and  he  asks,  "  When  the  people  have 
their  heads  so  split  by  glare,  by  pageantry,  by  show,  is  it  any 
wonder  they  are  so  wanting  in  feeling  for  true  art?  The 
artists,"  he  asserts,  "are  the  instructors  of  the  nation,  and  must 
create  the  taste  by  which  they  are  to  be  admired.  J  )id  not 
Michel  Angelo  and  Raffaelle  create  the  Roman  feeling  ?  Did 
not  Titian,  I  intoretto,  and  Giorgione  create  the  taste  at  Venice  ? 
Are  we,  then,  to  expect  the  English  people  to  be  inspired  and 
to  come  and  tell  us  what  is  right  ?  No  ;  it  is  the  painter  who 
must  instruct  them." 

With  regard  to  the  selection  of  paintings  for  exhibition,  he 
asserts  that  the  best  judges  among  the  Academicians  are 
notoriously  out-voted  by  the  majority  of  mediocrity,  and 
that  such  power  is  a  most  pernicious  power,  and  "if  not 
checked  and  controlled,  will  ruin  or  suppress  the  art  in  course 
of  time. 

The  reforms  he  indicates  are  an  improved  method  of  elec- 
tion, so  as  to  secure  the  best  men  of  every  department  in  the 
art.  a  reduction  of  the  power  of  the  council,  increased  responsi- 
bility, annual  premiums,  greater  space  for  the  exhibition  of 
works  of  ideal  art,  both  in  history  and  landscape ;  schools 
of  design,  and  an  annual  grant  of  public  money  for  art 
purposes.  . 

Then,  addressing  himself  to  the  students.  Haydon  urges  them 
to  go  with  reverence  to  their  work,  and  to  avoid  tin-  acade- 
mical defects  by  more  attentive  investigation  and  scientific 
research.  He  condemns  the  neglect  of  all  "  study  "  of  the 
human  form,  denounces  "that  senseless,  vicious,  academic 
squareness  in  draw  ing  which  has  mined  or  misled  the  hopes  of 
half  the  academies  of  Europe ; "  and  entreats  the  students  to 
get  a  perfect  knowledge  of  Nature  "as  she  is,"  before  they 
presume  to  make  her  what  they  think  she  "  ought  to  be."  He 
shews  them  w  hy  knowledge  of  correct  draw  ing,  the  basis  of  all 
good  art,  has  not  made  greater  progress  in  English  art,  viz.,  by 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


6 


the  unwise  neglect  of  the  Academy,  where  "  drawing  "  is  almost 
wholly  unknown  ;  reminds  them  that  the  future  of  English  art 
rests  upon  their  endeavours,  and  promises  them  if  they  will 
only  discard  academical  teaching,  pursue  the  art  aright,  and 
make  knowledge  of  form  their  basis,  and  then  colour,  light, 
and  shadow,  there  is  no  excellence  within  the  scope  of  human 
ability  they  may  not  attain. 

The  letters  are  evidently  the  work  of  a  young  writer  who 
is  master  of  his  subject.  They  put  forth  a  sound  system  ( f 
art  education,  and  I  can  quite  understand  why  such  vigorous 
writing  upon  a  subject  hitherto  sacred  to  connoisseurs  and 
official  academicians,  and  so  entirely  in  opposition  to  their 
existing  practice  in  art,  should  have  come  in  the  form  of  an 
astounding  surprise  to  such  very  great  men,  and,  as  regarded 
the  writer,  raised  the  keenest  curiosity.  No  sooner,  however, 
was  Haydon's  name  given  as  the  real  writer,  than  there  was  an 
explosion  of  all  that  long-hoarded  envy,  jealousy,  and  wrath, 
which  always  accumulates  in  society  against  a  young  man  of 
original  mind  who  is  dependent  upon  society  for  employment, 
and  does  not  wear  his  originality  with  submission.  Haydon 
was  denounced  at  every  dinner-table,  and  at  some  it  was  sug- 
gested legal  proceedings  be  taken  against  him. 

In  short,  he  awoke  one  morning  to  find  himself  a  man  forbid, 
and  all  his  reputation  gone.  In  forty-eight  hours  more  he  was 
regarded  as  one  of  the  most  abandoned  characters  of  the  age. 
►Society  in  those  days  resented  anything  that  smacked  of  an 
appeal  to  public  opinion.* 

*  When  Wilkie,  after  the  si  izure  of  his  pictures  in  execution,  painte  d  his 
well-known  '  Distraining  for  Rent,  the  Directors  of  the  Briiish  Gallery,  who  pur- 
chased the  work,  felt  such  misgivings  over  the  subject,  that,  incredible  as  the 
statement  may  appear  now,  they  hid  the  picture  for  years  in  their  lumber  loom 
below,  never  daring  to  exhibit  it.  The  whole  tone  and  temper  of  society  was,  in 
fact,  against  reflections  upon  established  authority.  As  for  the  number  of  unfor- 
tunate editors  and  writers  who  were  prosecuted,  fined,  imprisoned,  and  even 
transported  in  the  first  quarter  of  this  century,  their  name  is  legion.  Between 
1812  and  1822  there  were  270  Government,  prosecutions  for  libel  against  authors 
or  publishers,  and  Haydon  may  consider  himself  fortunate  that  he  escaped  as  he 
did.  Nevertheless,  in  taking  up  the  cause  of  art  and' design  at  the  tune  he  did, 
and  in  tlie  manner  lie  did,  Haydon  performed  a  valuable  public  service.  It  was 
absolutely  necessary  that  it  be  done.  No  one  else  in  the  art  had  the  courage  to 
attempt  it,  though  everyone  in  the  art  outside  of  the  Academy,  and  a  select 
minority  within  its  walls,  felt  that  it  ought  to  be  done,  ami  were  secretly  grateful 
that  Haydon  had  done  it.  If  he  was  not  prudent  so  far  as  his  own  personal 
interest  was  concerned,  he  was  at  least  honest  and  courageous  and  fuithfuJ 
towards  the  interests  of  his  art  and  of  the  public. 


62 


MEMOIR  OF 


His  teaching,  I  admit,  might  have  been  a  little  too  vehement 
for  the  nerves  of  an  over-refined  society,  and,  in  appearance, 
perhaps  wanting  in  that  patience  and  moderation  habitual  to 
Englishmen  when  viewing  the  errors  of  established  authority. 
But  nothing  could  be  more  unreasonable  in  fact  than  to  charge 
him  with  want  of  principle,  hasty  prejudice,  and  unreasoning 
intolerance.  And  they  need  not  have  denounced  him  as  an 
enemy  to  Church  and  King.  But  that  was  the  tone  of  society 
in  1812.  If  you  disagreed  with  any  public  prejudice  you 
were  immediately  set  down  as  a  republican  and  atheist. 
What  really  annoyed  Haydon's  noble  friends  was  his  writing 
to  a  newspaper — that  was  vulgar.  Men  of  rank  have  a  great 
horror  of  what  is  vulgar,  yet  no  people  are  more  ignorant 
of  what  is  so.  It  was  nothing  that  he  was  altogether  right 
on  the  main  question,  and  on  all  collateral  questions  springing 
out  of  it.  Why  refute  the  aristocratic  principle  in  art  ?  That 
was  one  offence.  As  Lord  Egremont  said,  "why  write  at  all?" 
And  as  Lord  Dartmouth  said,  "  why  write  to  a  newspaper  ? " 
That  was  another.  Posssibly  they  thought  mischief  was  too 
precious  a  thing  to  be  wasted  on  such  a  paltry  object  in  such  a 
public  manner.  Such  power  should  have  been  reserved  for 
employment  by  a  minister. 

And  what  was  the  mischief  he  had  done,  for  which  he  was  to 
be  punished?  He  had  brought  it  home  to  the  minds  of  his 
readers  that  England  was  not  more  backward  in  art  than  Italy 
had  been  under  similar  circumstances.  That  it  was  not  from 
climate  or  soil,  or  national  inability  to  feel  art,  the  English 
people  were  so  backward,  but  from  local  obstruction,  from 
apathy  and  indifference  in  high  places,  from  the  failure  of  the 
Eoyal  Academy  to  fulfil  its  public  function,  from  its  insincerity 
in  art,  from  its  long  neglect  to  supply  those  means  of  art  train- 
ing and  education  the  public  had  the  right  to  demand  at  its 
hands.  'I  he  whole  subject  was  one  of  serious  importance  to 
the  growing  interests  of  England. 

The  nobility,  feeling  that  the  patronage  of  art  was  a  part  of 
their  duty  as  an  aristocracy,  might  very  well  be  pitied  for  their 
want  of  knowledge  of  art  as  a  class.  With  no  art  tutors  at 
Oxford  or  Cambridge,  they  left  college  just  as  wise  in  art  as 
they  entered  it.  But  for  the  Eoyal  Academy  there  was  no 
excuse.    During  the  previous  twenty  years  it  had  subtly  and 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


63 


insidiously  abandoned  its  most  sacred  obligation,  that  of  pro- 
viding sufficient  art  instruction  for  the  people.  And,  under 
cover  of  its  position,  it  had  abused  its  powers  as  well  as 
evaded  its  responsibility,  degraded  the  art  into  a  vulgar 
trade,  and  made  it  a  matter  of  manoeuvring  and  compact 
without  reference  to  the  wishes  of  its  best  men,  or  interests  of 
the  country. 

All  this  Haydon  exposed,  with  a  rough  indifference  it  may 
be  to  the  prejudices  he  aroused,  but  with  an  earnestness  and 
public  zeal,  and  a  total  disregard  of  self  that  merited  public 
thanks  rather  than  social  exclusion. 

The  reception  his  "  J  hree  Letters  "  met  with  from  '*  society  " 
at  first  dismayed  Haydon.  He  says  he  had  expected  they  would 
"  welcome  the  diffusion  of  truth."  There  is  not  hing  the  world  dis- 
likes so  much.  It  is  humiliating  to  your  inferiors,  and  offensive 
to  all  the  rest.  And  in  his  effort  to  enlighten  their  understand- 
ings, Haydon  had  pricked  the  great  world's  prejudices  so  sharply, 
they  quickly  rejected  both  him  and  his  unpleasant  truths,  not 
because  they  could  disprove  them,  but  because  they  wished  them 
disproved.  His  arguments  were  at  least  strong  enough  to  de- 
serve to  be  cart-fully  and  impartially  weighed,  and  his  state- 
ments should  have  been  answered.  But  society  refused  to 
discuss  either.  They  were  persuaded  the  sacred  fires  of  art 
were  preserved  in  the  Academy  hut-house.*  Then  the  King 
was  at  the  head  of  the  Academy — authority  must  be  sup- 
ported— and  the  "  Exhibition  "  was  not  to  be  tampered  with. 
Their  belief  and  disbelief  was  not  grounded  on  the  evidence  of 
facts,  but  formed  out  of  partiality  and  prejudice  against  the 
evidence  those  facts  established. 

And  Haydon  was  equally  astonished  at  the  tone  and  action 
ta'<en  by  the  Academy.  He  had  evidently  anticipated  the 
great  law  of  retaliation  would  be  put  in  active  force  against 
him,  and  the  matter  openly  and  publicly  discussed,  much  as 
"discussions  "  (in  points  of  faith  and  morals  used  formerly  to  be 
practised.  But,' to  his  evident  chagrin,  nothing  of  the  kind 
occurred.  After  their  first  burst  of  indignation  was  over,  the 
culprit  discovered,  the  authorities  in  art  proceeded  to  deal 

*  "  Of  ac  idem'os  of  art  I  think  like  you.  They  nre  a  kind  of  hot-houses  for 
art's  winter  season,  unfit  to  reup  seeds,  but  exp.l'ent  for  every  kind  of  sickly 
plants."— LMer  of  RumOhr  to  Haydon,  9  April,  1842. 


64 


MEMOIR  OF 


with  him  deliberately.  They  first  insinuated  that  he  was 
factious.  Nothing  tells  so  well  with  society  and  against  your 
enemy  as  the  insinuation  that  his  conduct  has  been  factious ; 
it  is  delightfully  vague  :  it  covers  a  wide  space,  and  although  it 
is  only  one  man's  opinion  of  another  man's  action,  its  effect 
is  like  the  lie  that  'sinketh  in.'  Then  he  had  harassed  the  feel- 
ings of  their  "venerable  president;"  this  touched  society's  senti- 
ments. He  had  produced  "a  maximum  of  irritation  in  order  to 
remove  a  minimum  of  grievance ;  "  this  was  universally  ap- 
plauded. And  his  conduct  was  ungrateful.  "  Ingratum  si  dixeris 
omnia  dices."  In  a  short  time,  Haydon  found  himself  driven 
from  the  field.  The  academicians  knew  the  prejudices  of  a 
society  which  hated  publicity  ;  and  they  were  careful  never  to 
be  vehement.  They  only  insinuated,  they  did  not  accuse.  And 
this  exactly  suited  those  serene  regions  where  fury  and  feeling 
are  equally  unknown,  where  "  rage  assumes  the  milder  form  of 
malignity  ; "  where  you  are  abused,  but  only  behind  your  back  ; 
and  your  reputation  is  destroyed  in  a  manner  the  most  agree- 
able and  polished  in  the  world.  Haydon  did  not  understand 
this.  It  requires  a  considerable  amount  of  experience  in  good 
breeding.  The  academicians  did,  and  here  lay  their  advantage. 
To  a  young  man  so  ardent,  and  with  a  passion  for  everything 
that  was  open,  manly,  and  fair,  there  must  have  been  much 
that  was  galling  in  this  attitude  of  masked  malevolence. 
"  They  whispered  slander  against  me,"  *  says  he.  I  have  no 
doubt  of  it,  any  more  than  I  have  that,  stung  into  retort,  he 

*  The  apologists  of  the  Royal  Academy  deny  Haydon's  complaints  of  their 
malice,  and  of  their  taking  unfair  advantages.  But  I  must  say  I  cannot  bring 
myself  lo  believe  they  had  mucli  tenderness  of  conscience  in  their  treatment  of 
him.  Haydon  speaks  day  by  day  of  what  he  knows,  and  feels,  and  suffers  from. 
The  academicians  were  well  organized,  weie  animated  by  one  inteiest,  and  they 
had  many  opportunities  of  doing  Haydon  many  kinds  of  secret  mischief  with  an 
angry  and  credulous  society.  And  they  were  not  scrupulous  as  to  what  was 
according  to  propriety  and  settled  practice,  and  what  not.  They  certainly  seem 
to  have  thought  with  Escobar,  that,  provided  you  directed  your  intention  l  ightly, 
and  with  a  good  conscience,  "  licet  per  insidias  aut  a  tergo  perctitiat,"  and  thcio 
is  little  doubt  they  struck  home.  Besides,  after  his  "  Tlnee  Letters, '  the  acade- 
micians had  a  manifest  interest  in  ruining  Hayd'-n  in  public  estimation,  for,  by 
ruining  him,  they  hoped  to  conceal  their  own  laches,  and  this  interest  was  exactly 
in  proportion  to  their  responsibility  to  the  public.  Of  course  if  we  are  to  take  it 
for  granted  tint  the  Royal  Academy  of  Ha\ don's  day  was  composed  of  perfect 
characters,  and  if  all  our  reasoning  is  to  proceed  on  the  conclusion  that  they 
could  do  no  wiong,  the  force  of  the  argument  in  their  defence  must  be  admitted. 
But,  as  Macaulay  said  of  Lord  El  let)  borough.  "  It  is  somewhat  illogical  to  infer  a 
man's  innocence  from  the  flagraucy  of  his  guilt." 

[And 


77.  R.  HAYDON. 


6> 


found  slander  to  improve  by  opposition.  To  this  unlucky  sort 
of  sensitiveness  Haydon,  all  his  life,  was  much  too  prone,  for  a 
well-bred  man,  and  it  kept  him  in  a  perpetual  state  of  fretful 
irritability.  He  often  vowed  he  would  never  answer  another 
calumny,  but  he  always  forgot  his  vow  on  the  first  provoca- 
tion. This  was  unfortunate  ;  but  I  apprehend  few  of  us  can 
placidly  bear  to  be  slandered.  Even  a  Lord  Chief  Justice  will 
resent. 

Thus,  the  first  and  prompt  effect  of  his  now  famous  "  Three 
Letters  "  upon  Haydon's  own  fortunes  was  that  he  was  left  to 
solitude  and  silence  in  his  own  painting-room.  He  found  him- 
self without  sympathy,  appreciation,  or  support,  from  that  very 
society  in  whose  interests  he  believed  himself  to  be  earnestly 
working,  and  with  feelings  of  appiehension  and  distrust  roused 
against  him  in  all  quarters.  In  one  word,  he  was  "  cut,"  and 
his  antagonists  petted  and  protected.    This  neglect  of  equal 

And  that  there  is  abundant  proof  of  such  animus  against  Haydon  we  have 
only  to  search  the  published  biographies  of  academicians  deceased  since  Haydon, 
and  other  works  written  by  Koyal  Academicians.  Unhappily  a  Knowledge  of  the 
truih  dees  not  always  imply  an  intention  to  tell  it.  Men  who  know  perfectly 
well  the  leal  state  of  a  case  occasionally  find  it  to  their  interest  to  represent  the 
facts  altogether  differently;  that  is  within  the  common  experience  of  mankind. 
Let  us,  for  example,  take  the  case  of  Leslie,  the  painter,  and  a  Royal  Acade- 
mician. Leslie  was  an  excellent  man  in  m  ist  lespects,  and  one  of  the  best  spe  i- 
meus  of  a  Eoyal  Academician  this  century  has  seen.  Ytt  no  man  uses  his 
knowledge  to  misrepresent  facts  more  artfully,  aud  to  Haydon's  disadvantage, 
tl.an  Leslie.  In  fact  the  moment  he  touches  the  subject  of  Haydon  and  ti  e 
Academy,  his  statements  cease  to  be  trustworthy,  or,  charitable.  I  have  little 
doubt  he  was  anxious  to  have  truth  on  his  side  when  dealing  with  Haydon 
and  the  Academy,  but,  unfortunately,  l.e  does  nut  display  equal  anxiety  to  be  on 
the  side  of  truth.  The  disingenuous  manner  in  which,  in  his  Autobiography, 
he  deals  with  facts  in  the  Bird  and  Wilkie  business,  and  in  the  ease  of 
'  Dentatus,'  is  striking.  He  first  charges  Haydon  ('Handbook,'  p.  154)  with 
absolute  untruthfulness,  and  then  in  his  Autobiography,  wholly  at  a  loss  for 
material  to  support  this  allegation  against  Haydon,  yet  anxious  to  serve  the  cause 
of  the  Eoyal  Academy,  to  which  he  belonged,  he  d<  liberately  misrepresents  .-onie 
facts,  suppiesses  others,  and  garbles  all  with  the  evident  design  of  lowering  the 
reputation  of  Haydon,  and  of  placing  that  of  the  Academy  in  the  most  favourable 
light.  And  yet  he  must  have  been  fully  acquainted  with  all  the  facts,  and  was 
wiiting  deliberately,  several  years  after  Haydon's  de..th,  and  with  Haydon's 
Autobiography  before  him. 

If  no  other  proofs  existed  of  the  virulent  party  feeling  against  Haydon,  I 
should  regard  this  testimony  of  Leslie's  as  having  a  double  value— first,  as 
corroborating  the  probability  of  Haydon's  statement  -  of  the  habitual  malice  and 
misrepresentation  concerning  him  ;  and  secondly,  as  showing  Haydon's  statements 
of  the  Bird  and  Wilkie  business  and  •  Dentatus  '  affairs  were  contemporary  state- 
ments, and  not  disingenuous  ficti.  ns,  put  forward  by  him  in  his  Autobiography, 
thirty  years  later,  for  the  purpose  of  damaging  the  Academy.  If  such  is  the  con- 
duct of  their  best  men  forty  years  after  the  events  themselves,  may  we  not  draw 
a  reasonable  inference  of  what  was  the  conduct  of  the  majority  at  the  time  when 
p..ssions  weie  heated,  and  personal  feeling  bitter  and  .mplacabie?— Ed. 

VOL.  I.  F 


66 


MEMOIR  OF 


justice  is  the  habitual  sin  of  an  aristocracy.  They  punish 
indiscretions,  but  they  reward  great  crimes. 

A  small  band  of  personal  friends,  who  had  not  fled  to  wait 
upon  his  foes,  who  knew  his  statements  to  be  well  founded  and 
true,  and  who  believed  in  his  sincerity  and  skill,  alone  were 
left  to  him.  I  do  not  know  that  he  felt  the  change  in  his 
position  very  acutely.  Like  the  French  marshal,  he  was 
always  ready  "  de  quitter  la  plume  pour  dormir  sur  la  dure," 
and  he  slept  not  the  less  soundly.  When  his  petulance 
was  cooled  he  took  the  opinion  of  society  upon  himself  and 
his  motives,  at  its  real  value,  an  algebraical  quantity  some- 
what less  than  nothing,  and  he  returned  to  his  painting- 
room,  resolved  to  make  himself  worthy  of  the  responsibility 
he  had  assumed,  to  quit  himself  like  a  man  and  be  strong, 
and  we  shall  see  in  due  time  what  he  did,  and  what 
society. 

Dropped  by  his  distinguished  friends,  and  shunned  by  most 
of  his  recent  acquaintances  as  a  sceptic  and  a  republican — so 
unjust  and  capricious  is  society  in  one  of  its  fits  of  indignation 
with  a  favourite — Haydon  quickly  formed  his  resolve.  His 
strong  will  acting  upon  his  indignation  made  him  determined 
to  succeed,  and,  when  that  cooled,  his  high  ambition  sustained 
him.  Thus,  what  the  academicians  had  designed  as  a 
hindrance,  viz.,  his  rejection  in  1809-10-11,  proved  to  be  a 
step  to  his  success,  for  it  stimulated  him  into  more  determined 
action,  and  what  under  official  patronage  would  perhaps  have 
taken  him  twenty  years  to  effect,  we  shall  now  see  wrought  out 
in  five.  He  resolved  to  continue  to  expose  the  abuses  of  the 
academical  system  till  they  were  remedied,  and  he  would  at 
once  begin  to  paint  a  "  series "  of  sacred  historical  pictures, 
to  be  put  independently  before  the  English  people.  He 
would  try  also  to  found  a  school  of  pupils,  thus  laying  a 
foundation  for  the  practical  extension  of  his  schemes  for  the 
elevation  of  art  and  design,  by  raising  a  race  of  designers 
for  possible  contingencies.  Then,  like  the  son  of  Sirach,  he 
said,  "  Let  us  separate  ourselves  from  our  enemies  and  take 
heed  of  our  friends  whose  minds  are  according  to  our  minds, 
and  who  will  sorrow  with  us  if  we  miscarry,"  and  ordering  in  a 
great  canvas  12  ft.  10  in.  by  10  ft.  10  in.,  nearly  600/.  in 
debt,  and  not  one  shilling  in  his  pocket,  he  began  his  first 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


67 


great  picture — some  say  the  greatest  lie  ever  painted — '  The 
Judgment  of  Solomon.' 

Here  may  he  said  to  end  the  first  period  of  Haydon's  career. 
If  we  look  back  to  the  night  on  which  he  arrived  in  London, 
May,  1804,  to  this  March,  1812,  the  results  will  he  found  not 
insignificant.  His  ambition  had  been  to  do  his  work  tho- 
roughly, according  to  the  best  of  his  ability,  and  to  pray  for 
God's  blessing  upon  it,  without  much  caring  for  the  opinions 
of  men.  In  those  few  years  he  had  sprung  from  being  an 
unknown  lad,  with  no  knowledge  of  art,  to  the  first  rank  of 
English  historical  painters.  He  wielded  the  resources  of  his 
art  with  ,  a  power  and  ease  of  which  his  contemporaries  were 
destitute.  The  knowledge  he  had  acquired  of  the  technical 
detail  of  his  profession  was  extraordinary,  and  no  one  knew 
how  he  got  it — it  was  by  study  only.  Under  great  obligations 
to  Fuseli,  which  he  always  heartily  and  gratefully  acknow- 
ledged, Haydon  had  never  had  a  master  in  the  full  meaning  of 
the  term.  He  had  taught  himself  to  draw  before  he  entered  the 
Academy  school,  and  he  had  taught  himself  to  paint  since  he 
left  it.  He  had  extraordinary  power  of  drawing,  great  expres- 
sion, and  a  fine  eye  for  colour.  Leslie,  no  friendly  critic,  says 
the  purity  and  tone  of  his  colour  was  not  to  be  rivalled,  and  he 
was  singularly  free  from  the  faults  of  the  theorists  and  pedants 
upon  art.  He  had  shown,  also,  that  while  he  had  all  the 
industry  of  a  drudge,  he  had  all  the  courage,  the  force  of 
character,  the  invention  and  enthusiasm  of  genius,  and  yet  a 
temper  that  could  bear  indignity  and  neglect. 

And  it  was  not  alone  as  a  painter,  that  Haydon  had  made 
this  early  reputation.  It  was  also  as  a  fresh  and  powerful 
writer  and  conversationalist  upon  art,  as  the  bold  defender  in 
society  of  the  value  of  the  Elgin  Marbles  against  the  contempt 
and  depreciation  of  Mr.  Payne  Knight  and  the  connoisseurs, 
and  as  a  master  in  argument  and  detail  on  all  questions  arising 
out  of  the  extension  of  Art  and  Design.  He  had  disputed  the 
infallibility  of  the  academical  dogma,  he  had  asserted  the 
claims  of  art  and  industry,  he  had  vindicated  the  character 
of  the  British  school,  and  he  had  boldly  exposed  the  negli- 
gence, the  ignorance,  the  low  taste,  and  particular  short- 
comings of  those  on  whom  British  art  had  to  rely,  and  society 
believed  in. 

But  this  style  of  thing  is  not  to  be  done  by  any  man  with 

f  2 


68 


MEMOIR  OF 


mpunity.  A  "benevolent  Nature  has  bestowed,  upon  certain 
men  in  all  societies,  an  instinctive  appetite  to  resist  those 
whose  talents,  rank,  or  power  command  attention.  If  the  man 
be  poor  and  unknown,  without  rank  or  position,  so  much  the 
more  certain  is  it  he  is  an  "  impostor."  When  a  man  of  this 
position  presses  on  their  notice,  so  that  they  cannot  deny  his 
existence,  nor  dispute  his  success,  nor  avoid  witnessing  its 
appearance,  that  follows  which  we  might  expect  when  we 
remember  the  meanness  and  malignity  of  this  portion  of  man- 
kind. They  begin  by  feeling  uneasy,  then  scrupulous  of  ac- 
knowledging the  talents  which  cause  their  uneasiness,  then 
anxious  to  show  that  he  does  not  owe  his  success  to  any  dis- 
tinctive faculty,  till  his  celebrity  becoming  hateful,  because 
well  merited,  they  devote  themselves  to  the  pleasure  of 
degrading  him.  They  disparage  his  ability,  impugn  his 
motives,  and  then  blacken  his  reputation  before  the  world, 
till,  at  length,  their  foul  words  having  "  broken  the  charm  " 
of  his  fair  deeds,  they  drive  him  into  poverty  or  the  grave. 
When  he  is  ruined  or  dead  the  personal  pressure  of  actual 
presence  is  over,  and  envy  breathes  again  without  pain. 

Apart  from  what  has  been  called  the  worldly  impru- 
dence of  Haydon,  and  from  that  point  of  view  his  "  Three 
Letters  "  and  his  disagreement  with  »v  ir  George  Beaumont  were 
the  most  indiscreet  acts  a  young  man  in  his  position  could 
possibly  commit — his  career,  up  to  this  point,  offers  a  singular 
instance  of  the  success  that  may  be  effected  by  the  union 
of  temperance  with  industry  and  courage,  and  by  thinking 
steadily  on  one  subject,  not  letting  your  mind  float  idly  over 
many.  In  this  present  age  of  Jacks  of  many  trades  and 
masters  of  few,  Haydon  stands  out  well  in  this  concentration 
of  the  attention  and  faculties,  and  may  be  studied  with 
advantage. 

With  regard  to  his  general  course  of  conduct,  I  repeat 
that  I  am  satisfied  his  motives  were  high  and  pure,  and  bis 
action  disinterested.  Haydon  had  no  personal  object  in  view. 
His  art  found  him  poor,  and  we  know  it  left  him  so.  He 
never  made  an  investment  in  his  life,  and  no  wonder.  In 
thirty  yeai's  he  cleared  exactly  13s.  Q>d.  as  his  professional 
gains  in  excess  of  his  expenditure,  which  was  moderate  enough. 
He  might  have  had  honours,  for  they  were  within  his  easy 
reach  more  than  once.    He  remembered  himself  too  little,  and 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


69 


his  art  far  too  much,  for  his  interest.  The  only  favour  he  ever 
asked  for  himself  was  the  promise  of  a  small  pension  to  keep 
him  out  of  the  workhouse  when  he  should  be  old  and  past 
work.  The  Eoyal  Bounty  Fund  he  never  troubled,  poor  as  he 
was ;  and  the  only  honour  he  ever  sought,  the  fair  recognition 
of  the  claims  of  Painting  by  the  State,  and  the  adoption  of  his 
principles  in  art  and  design. 

His  hostile  attitude  towards  the  Academy  is  often  con- 
demned. But  I  hope  I  have  been  able  to  show  that  no  grounds 
exist  for  his  condemnation  on  this  head.  There  is  no  question 
now  that  he  was  right.  And  surely  no  man  could  have  shown 
greater  forbearance  than  Hay  don  between  1809  and  1812.  He 
allowed  nothing  to  provoke  him,  and  it  must  be  admitted  he 
had  more  than  his  share  of  provocation.  When  the  time  came 
to  act  he  acted,  and  to  the  best  of  his  ability.  He  saw  what 
was  wrong  in  the  art  and  in  the  Academy,  and  how  it  best 
could  be  set  right,  and  he  confined  himself  to  the  stubborn  task. 
But  he  knew  with  what  he  had  to  deal,  and  how  to  deal  with 
it.  In  a  contest  with  a  close  corporation  like  the  Eoyal 
Academy,  nothing  is  ever  gained  by  trusting  to  their  spon- 
taneous generosity,  or  by  consulting  their  convenience.  Weak 
men  often  talk  of  "  moderate  measures."  Moderate  measures, 
in  such  contests,  are  a  mistake ;  for  the  misery  of  moderation 
is  that  you  never  have  an  active  party  for  or  against  you.  If 
you  are  sincere,  you  pass  your  life  in  seeing  your  best  efforts 
drop  unnoticed  on  the  ground,  and  in  any  case  you  die  before 
your  opinions  get  a  hearing.  But  in  general  your  men  of 
moderate  measures  do  not  even  get  so  far  as  this.  They  pass 
their  lives  shuffling  and  juggling  between  two  conflicting 
principles,  and  shaking  in  their  shoes  for  the  success  of  either. 
There  is  only  one  rule  in  these  matters  and  for  all  men, 
"  thorough."  This  was  Haydon's  rule,  and  from  first  to  last  he 
never  swerved  from  it. 

It  may  be  as  well,  before  closing  this  period  of  Haydon's 
career,  to  refer  briefly  to  his  projected  reform  of  the  Royal 
Academy.  His  real  aim  was  to  reduce  it  to  the  level  of  a 
School  of  Instruction.  All  the  world  outside  is  now  tolerably 
well  agreed  that  Haydon's  complaints  were  well-founded,  and 
that  he  was  thoroughly  in  the  right  so  far  as  his  demand  for 
reform,  but  no  one  seems  to  have  any  very  distinct  notion  of 


7o 


MEMOIR  OF 


what  kind  of  reform  is  needed.  The  Academy  has  good  laws, 
but  these  are  overruled  by  bad  customs.  Even  academicians 
confess  that  "  something  must  be  done."  But  all  they  propose 
to  do  is  to  increase  the  number  of  academicians,  and  conse- 
quently of  academicians'  pensions.  It  may  be  fairly  doubted 
whether  any  increase  of  mere  numbers  or  pensions  will  prove 
of  advantage  to  the  public  interest. 

In  considering  the  affairs  of  the  Eoyal  Academy,  it  must 
be  remembered  the  Academy  has  no  legal  status ;  it  has  no 
charter ;  it  is  not  incorporated  by  Act  of  Parliament ;  and  no 
one  in  Parliament  seems  exactly  to  know  how  to  deal  with  it, 
though,  as  has  been  suggested,  it  might  be  brought  in  as  a 
trade  union.  That  a  Royal  Academy  is  not  necessary  to  the 
art  of  a  nation  is  admitted.  That  can  exist,  and,  until  quite 
modern  times,  always  contrived  to  flourish  without  the  aid  of 
academies.  MM.  Leon  Say,  Rumohr,  Horace  Vernet,  Cornelius, 
and  others  of  authority  in  art,  held  with  Haydon  that  acade- 
mies are  injurious  to  High  Art;  that  they  generate  an  artificial 
style  called  academic,  and  distinct  from  what  is  natural,  and 
have  never  succeeded  in  approaching  the  fine  art  of  Italy  or 
Greece,  where  schools  only,  and  not  academies,  existed. 

With  regard  to  our  own  Royal  Academy,  originally  two 
broad  conditions  accompanied  its  power  and  privileges,  viz., 
that  well-regulated  schools  of  design  be  established  through- 
out the  country,  so  as  to  give  us  good  designers,  and  that 
annual  exhibitions  should  be  open  to  "  all  artists  "  to  place 
their  works  fairly  before  the  public  eye.  If  an  academy  of  art 
does  not  fully  and  completely  comply  with  these  two  primary 
conditions,  in  addition  to  its  own  particular  duties  as  a  school 
of  art,  of  what  use  is  it  ? 

Its  official  character  may  give  it  the  sign  of  ascendency,  just 
as  we  see  a  golden  canister  swinging  over  our  heads.  It  is 
large  and  lofty,  and  extremely  imposing ;  but  it  fulfils  none  of 
the  purposes  of  the  th'ng  it  represents,  whatever  else  it  may 
represent.  And  so  it  is  with  a  Poyal  Academy  of  art,  which 
has  not  an  active  sympathy  with  every  phase  of  art. 

The  silly  superstition  of  society  that  a  Royal  Academy  of 
art  necessarily  holds  a  monopoly  of  the  genius  and  taste  of 
the  nation,  is  like  the  credulity  of  the  old  fathers  in  the  special 
productiveness  of  their  barnacle  tree.    They  could  give  no 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


7i 


reason  for  the  faith  that  was  in  them,  any  more  than  society  ; 
but  they  firmly  believed  the  tree  dropped  its  fruit  into  the 
waters,  the  fruit  cracked,  and,  out  swam  a  gosling.  One  can 
only  say  to  such  credulity  as  William  III.  said  to  those  who 
besought  him  to  touch  them  for  scrofula,  "  God  give  you  better 
health  and  more  sense." 

One  chief  error  of  society  in  this  blind  belief  is  in  not  per- 
ceiving the  general  fate  of  every  institution  is  to  obtain  a 
high  reputation  for  genius  and  excellence  under  its  first  pre- 
sident, and  to  lose  it  under  his  successors.  Then  the  inherent 
vices  of  all  institutions,  such  as  a  great  capacity  for  favouritism, 
vanity,  intrigue,  envy,  faction,  and  "  a  passion  for  capriciously 
fixing  the  criteria  of  excellence,"  according  to  Payne  Knight, 
are  not  likely  to  be  diminished  when  you  add  to  these  the 
patronage  of  the  sovereign,  the  support  of  the  nobility,  and  an 
organisation  of  forty  or  so  self  elected  members,  not  subject  to 
the  control  of  the  profession,  not  compelled  to  subject  their 
accounts  to  public  audit,  and  with  large  funds,  all  the  honours, 
and  nearly  all  the  emoluments  of  the  profession  within  their 
grasp.  Such  a  society  so  constituted  and  so  armed,  becomes, 
as  Macaulay  says  of  literary  societies,  a  positive  star-chamber. 
No  man,  in  their  particular  profession,  can  hope  to  rise  to  dis- 
tinction or  wealth  but  by  their  favour,  and  this  is  only  to  be 
won  by  submission  to  their  rules  and  practice.  Independence 
of  character,  originality  of  mind  or  of  research  are  kept  down 
to  the  dead  level  of  the  average  comprehension.  Genius  is 
not  wanted,  and  zeal  and  enthusiasm  are  regarded  as  a  reflec- 
tion upon  the  apathy  of  the  rest.  In  short,  the  best  men  are 
lost  in  a  majority  of  mediocrities.  It  is  in  vain  that  you  pro- 
test. Election  will  be  granted  not  for  the  advance  of  art,  but 
according  to  the  prejudices  of  that  faction  or  party  which  has 
the  upper  hand;  and  when  their  trust  is  abused,  and  their 
great  powers  grossly  misapplied,  that  will  occur  which  always 
occurs  on  such  occasions.  'Ihe  society  will  first  argue,  that 
the  question  is  one  which  does  not  really  concern  the  public, 
and  then,  explaining  their  conduct  entirely  to  their  own  satis- 
faction, they  will  make  the  very  magnitude  of  the  wrong  they 
have  committed,  ground  for  suggesting  easy  incredulity.  The 
thing  is  done  every  day  in  all  departments  of  art,  literature,  or 
science  ;  and  let  me  in  fairness  add,  nowhere  more  grossly  than 
in  the  public  departments  of  the  State. 


72 


MEMOIR  OF 


Prima  facie,  it  is  of  course  the  bounden  duty  of  the  heads 
of  these  institutions  and  departments  to  act  with  strict  im- 
partiality, and  they  profess  so  to  do.  But  the  difficulty  is  to 
agree  upon  the  meaning  and  application  of  what  constitutes 
"  partiality."  There  is  the  hitch,  and  there  lies  the  enormous 
risk  of  societies,  or  public  departments  sheltered  from  direct 
responsibility,  neglecting  their  duties,  or,  irresponsibly  con- 
stituted like  the  Eoyal  Academy,  misusing  their  power. 
And  experience  teaches  us  the  fear  of  such  risk  is  seldom 
misplaced. 

Not  to  enter  upon  so  large  a  question  as  the  "schools  of 
design,"  let  us  take,  for  example,  the  single  instance  in  con- 
nection with  our  Royal  Academy  of  hanging  pictures  fairly 
for  public  view.  This  is  a  popular  question  annually  discussed. 
I  am  not  a  painter  although  my  father  was,  and  I  have  no 
connection  with  the  art,  and  therefore  I  can  speak  without 
passion  or  prejudice,  or  even  party  feeling.  But  what  happens 
notoriously  in  our  Koyal  Academy  on  these  occasions  ?  The 
great  painters  of  Italy  and  Greece,  when  their  works  were  ready 
for  inspection,  were  free  to  hang  them  in  the  best  public  situa- 
tions. But  at  Burlington  House,  a  painter,  who  is  not  an 
academician,  no  matter  how  famous  in  his  profession,  nor  after 
how  many  years  of  study  and  analysis,  is  compelled  to  trust 
his  reputation  in  the  hands  of  those  whose  interest  it  is  to 
keep  him  from  the  public  eye ;  and  there  is  no  check  upon 
them.  If  his  style  of  art  be  a  style  of  art  not  practised  by  the 
academicians,  he  is  certain  to  be  rendered  indistinct.  If  it  be 
similar  and  superior,  he  may  count  upon  being  made  viewless, 
unless  it  suits  them  to  hang  his  picture  in  sight.*  Yet  no 
academician  would  seriously  contend  that  all  the  best  places 
for  public  view,  on  the  walls  of  the  exhibition  rooms,  are  to 
be  reserved  for  academicians  and  their  friends.  That  would 
be  a  vicious  disposition.  Nevertheless — from  the  difficulty  of 
agreeing,  I  presume,  upon  the  application  of  that  evil  thing, 
partiality — it  is  the  disposition  practically  carried  into  effect 
every  year. 

Here  then  is  at  least  one  shabby  facility  for  injuring  a  re- 
putation that  is  envied.    Look  at  it  how  we  will,  this  hanging 

*  Martin,  the  painter,  said  in  evidence,  before  Mr.  Ewart's  Committee  (1830), 
"The  general  treatment  I  have  had  at  the  Koyal  Academy  is  tins,  my  pictures 
have  been  placed  in  such  disadvantageous  situations  as  to  do  me  great  injury.  I 
have  exhibited  eight  times,  and  in  every  ease  had  to  complain." — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


73 


of  pictures  is  placing  in  the  hands  of  a  small  body  of  irrespon- 
sible men  a  vast  discretionary  power,  and,  irrespective  of  the 
manner  in  which  that  power  may  be  employed,  is  it  judicious 
to  leave  such  a  power  in  the  hands  of  non-responsible  men  ?  It 
is  trusting  too  much  to  their  sense  of  impartiality,  if  it  be  not 
widely  opening  the  door  to  favouritism  and  abuse.  The  result 
is  that  we  find  the  nation  treated  as  George  III.  was  treated 
by  Lord  Bute.  The  Academy  keeps  from  its  eye  men  of  true 
merit,  and  annually  sacrifices  the  public  interest  to  their  own. 

The  main  cause  of  this,  and  of  every  other  mischief  in  our 
Royal  Academy,  will  be  found  in  the  absence  of  responsibility. 
It  was  to  this  leading  defect  Barry  attributed  the  vices  he 
denounced,  in  the  last  century,  and  it  is  to  this  same  defect 
the  abuses  which  exist  may  easily  be  traced.  Responsibility  is 
the  essence  of  good  administration  in  art  as  in  other  matters, 
and  it  cannot  be  said  to  exist  in  an  institution  which  elects 
itself  for  life,  and  when  elected  secures  possession  of  a  power, 
that,  however  mischievously  it  may  be  abused,  cannot  be 
withdrawn.  This  is  the  seat  of  the  academic  disease.  It  is 
idle  to  upbraid  men  so  privileged  with  abuses  of  their  power ; 
the  power  is  put  into  their  hands  without  conditions,  and  they 
are  entitled  to  exercise  it  according  to  their  judgment,  wrong 
as  that  judgment  may  be. 

But  such  a  state  of  things  is  not  advantageous  to  art  and 
ought  not  to  be  satisfactory  to  the  public.  Many  schemes  of 
improvement  have  been  put  forward  from  time  to  time  ;  the 
subject  has  even  been  discussed  in  parliament  since  Haydon's 
death.  But  every  plan  and  proposal  put  forth  as  yet  is 
marred  by  one  vicious  blot  that  renders  the  rest  of  it  valueless, 
and  will  double  the  abuse  to  be  cured.  They  one  and  all 
propose  to  increase  the  number  of  academicians,  consequently 
of  academical  pensions,  yet  without  any  increase  of  responsi- 
bility, and  thus  they  undertake  to  cure  one  corruption  by  a 
greater.  This  is  not  even  homoeopathic  treatment.  The  object  of 
any  reform  of  the  Royal  Academy  should  be  to  secure  a  more 
honest  stewardship  on  the  part  of  academicians  ;  to  get  from 
them  some  security  for  the  exercise  of  their  great  powers,  more 
in  accordance  with  the  artists'  sense  of  their  own  interests. 
That  is  what  is  needed.  At  present  there  is  no  security  of  this 
kind.  The  abuse  is  that,  the  Academy  does  not  apply  its 
great  powers  as  beneficially  as  it  might  and  should.  This 


74 


MEMOIR  OF 


is  universally  admitted  outside  the  Academy  doors.  How, 
then,  is  this  to  be  remedied?  There  is  only  one  way,  and 
that  is  by  supplying  new  motives  to  the  members  of  the 
Academy,  in  order  to  make  them  more  considerate  and 
more  studious  of  outside  interests  And  you  can  only  make 
them  so  by  increasing  their  responsibility,  and  by  making 
them  liable  to  dismissal  for  incompetency,  or  proved  mis- 
conduct. 

Thus,  the  really  effective  reform  would  be,  not  to  make  the 
coveted  honour  of  R.A.  any  cheaper,  but  so  much  the  dearer. 
It  should  be  held  only  by  giving  proof  of  those  qualities  and 
acquirements  which  should  render  the  exercise  of  the  power 
bestowed  beneficial  to  those  who  should  have  its  bestowal,  viz. 
the  great  body  of  outside  artists.  And  to  this  end  all 
members  of  the  Royal  Academy  should  be  required  to  be 
elected,  at  certain  periods,  by  a  wide  constituency  taken  from 
the  body  of  artists,  say,  for  example,  those  who  had  exhibited 
for  three  years  No  pension  should  be  granted  under  fifteen 
years'  service,  but  gratuities  might  be  bestowed  in  cases  of 
proved  necessity. 

The  President  should,  as  now,  be  elected  for  life,  though 
not,  as  now,  by  the  academicians,  but  by  the  whole  body  of 
artists,  subject  to  the  approval  of  the  Sovereign,  and  a  general 
election  of  forty  academicians  should  take  place  every  five 
years,  one-fifth  to  go  out  annually  with  the  full  capacity  of 
being  re-elected.  The  accounts  of  the  Academy  should  be 
published  every  year.  The  advantage  of  this  plan  would  be 
that  a  competent  constituency  would  thus  be  acquired,  that 
Royal  Academicians  so  elected  would  not  be  liable  to  that 
fatal  academic  infection  which  has  spoiled  so  many  good  men 
when  once  elected  for  life,  and  that  a  check  would  be  placed 
upon  their  official  expenditure. 

For  academicians  elected  on  this  plan  would  always  feel 
that  their  continued  possession  of  academical  honours  de- 
pended on  their  possession  of  the  esteem  and  confidence  of  the 
great  body  of  artists.  Hence,  to  acquire  or  retain  his  seat  the 
candidate  must  have  first  obtained  "  the  good  opinion  of  his 
brethren  outside." 

Nothing  fairer,  I  conceive,  can  be  proposed.  The  publica- 
tion of  the  accounts  would  act  as  a  beneficial  check  on  extrava- 
gance or  misapplication ;  the  prerogative  of  the  Crown  would 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


75 


remain  where  it  is;  the  Academy  would  not  be  under  the 
dictation  of  the  electors,  and  the  mass  of  the  non-elected, 
though  essentially  untouched,  would  in  very  many  respects 
find  themselves  in  a  superior  position,  and,  certainly,  Royal 
Academicians  so  elected  would  feel  the  force  of  motives  which 
have  hitherto  had  only  the  faintest  influence  upon  their 
society. 


76 


MEMOIR  OF 


SECOND  PEEIOD. 

The  second  period  of  Haydon's  career  began,  as  we  see,  in 
trouble.  It  rose  through  greater  trouble  to  a  period  of  high 
reputation,  splendid  successes,  and  then  suddenly  collapsed 
under  complete  ruin.  Haydon,  once  separated  from  the 
incubus  of  the  Royal  Academy,  resolved  to  carry  out  the  series 
of  changes  he  was  bent  on  accomplishing  for  the  art  in  Eng- 
land. He  is  the  first  painter  in  whom  we  can  trace,  throughout 
the  whole  period  of  his  life,  the  steady  working  out  of  a  clear 
and  definite  public  purpose  without  reference  to  his  own 
personal  gain.  His  purpose  was  to  have  Ideal  art,  in  its  epic, 
dramatic,  and  historic  branch,  put  before  the  public  in  a 
high  form,  combined  with  a  close  imitation  of  nature,  so  as 
not  only  to  delight  the  senses,  but  to  excite  the  grander 
passions  of  the  soul,  and  call  forth  what  is  noble  and  good 
within  us.  He  formed,  too,  at  this  period  a  vast  scheme  for 
the  art-education  of  the  people.  Whatever  he  lived  to  carry 
out  was  only  a  small  portion  of  his  plans.  For  himself  he  would 
try  to  produce  ideal  works  that  should  stand  with  the  old 
masters,  and  he  would  do  his  best  to  train  and  educate  a  race 
of  great  designers — young  men  as  enthusiastic  and  industrious 
as  himself,  and  who  should  be  equal  to  the  great  public  works 
that  would  yet  have  to  be  done  in  this  country.  He  would  do 
his  utmost  also  to  wring  from  ministers  and  parliament  public 
employment  for  historical  painters.  All  this  was  not  the 
result  of  exaggerated  illusions,  the  fruit  of  an  over-heated 
brain,  but  of  very  deliberate  and  well-considered  plans ;  his 
object,  to  raise  the  taste  and  increase  the  skill  of  his  country- 
men, and  add  to  the  greatness  of  England's  glory. 

But  his  difficulties  were  immense.  True,  his  views  and 
principles  found  a  strong  argument  in  the  degradation  of 


B.  R.  HA  YD  OAT. 


77 


academic  art,  in  the  antagonism  and  animosity  of  the  artists 
against  the  Academy,  and  in  the  yearning  of  the  young  men 
for  a  higher  and  purer  art,  but  there  was  an  appalling  reverse. 
He  was  without  capital,  almost  without  friends,  without  credit, 
and  in  debt.*  These  were  obstacles  not  easily  to  be  overcome. 
And  there  was  now  another  check  upon  him  in  the  hostility  of 
the  Royal  Academy,  and  in  the  suspicion  and  disesteem  of  the 
nobility  and  patrons.  Neither  of  these  were  to  be  despised, 
but  they  were  of  that  class  of  obstructions  not  to  be  too 
closely  considered  in  the  execution  of  a  great  project. 

Mr.  Prince  Hoare,  one  day  in  March  1812,  met  him  walking 
down  the  Haymarket,  admitted  the  truth  of  all  he  had  written, 
but  said,  "  They  will  deny  your  talents  and  deprive  you  of 
employment."  "  Yet,"  replied  Haydon,  "  if  I  produce  a  work 
of  such  merit  as  cannot  be  denied,  the  public  will  cairy  me 
through."  "  They  know  nothing  of  art,"  said  Prince  Hoare. 
"  That  I  deny,"  returned  Haydon ;  "  the  merest  shoeblack  will 
understand  Ananias."  Mr.  Hoare  shook  his  head  despondingly. 
"  What  do  you  propose  to  paint  ? "  "  The  Judgment  of  Solomon." 
"  Why  Rubens  and  Raphael  have  both  tried  it,"  said  Mr.  Hoare 
with  surprise.  "  So  much  the  better,"  said  Haydon  composedly  ; 
"  I  will  tell  the  story  better."  Mr.  Hoare  smiled.  "  And  how 
are  you  to  live?"  "  Leave  that  to  me."  "  Who  is  to  pay  your 
rent?"  "  Leave  that  to  me."  "  Ah  !"  said  his  old  friend,  "I  see 
you  are  ready  with  a  reply ;  you  will  never  sell  it."  "  1  trust  in 
God,"  replied  Haydon.  "  Well,"  said  Mr.  Hoare,  drawing  a 
long  breath,  and  in  a  tone  that  showed  his  belief  in  what 
would  soon  happen,  "  if  you  are  arrested,  send  for  me." 

It  is  only  a  conversation  like  this  and  in  words  like  these 
that  brings  home  to  us  the  real  difficulties  of  Paydon's  posi- 
tion, and  displays  the  courage,  the  tenacity,  and  the  insuppres- 
sive  mettle  of  his  spirit.  Imagine  a  young  man  in  such  a 
situation,  without  a  sixpence  in  the  world,  and  in  debt,  living 
in  a  noisy  street  of  a  city  eminently  hideous,  surrounded  by 
people  dressed  in  the  ugliest  costumes,  and  with  nothing 

*  How  Haydon  contrived  to  live  during  the  next  two  years  at  first  appears  a 
mystery.  But  his  own  trade-men  gave  liim  full  credit,  and  for  anything  else  he 
went  to  the  money-lenders,  who  assisted  him,  though  at  the  rate  of  sixty  per  cent. 
How  he  paid  this  interest  was  by  the  simple  method  of  incurring  a  fresh  debt  to 
pay  off  the  did  one,  till  at  length,  his  punctuality  becoming  known,  his  patronage 
was  sought,  and  offers  made  to  accommodate  him  at  forty  per  cent.  And  this 
nmained  his  normal  rate  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  This  for  punctuality,  aud 
ninety  per  cent,  (in  law  costs)  for  unpunctuality,  explains  much. 


78 


MEMOIR  OF 


more  picturesque  to  excite  his  imagination  than  the  Lord 
Mayor's  Show  or  a  May  Day,  deliberately  sitting  down  to  con- 
ceive, and  what  is  more,  to  paint  on  his  own  responsibility,  so 
grand  a  work  as  the  "  J udgment  of  Solomon  "  upon  the  scale 
of  life!   It  says  a  good  deal  for  the  powers  of  his  young  mind. 

The  next  morning  he  arose  with  the  now  proverbial  "  light 
heart,"  and  having  prayed  to  God  to  guide  him  aright,  and 
found,  as  curiously  enough  he  never  failed  to  find,  his  inward 
conviction  to  agree  with  his  own  self-will,  he  sent  for  his 
model,  and  painted  in  the  head  of  the  "  Wicked  Mother." 

With  this  picture  Haydon  pursued  and  carried  further  the 
same  cautious  course  he  had  followed  with  '  Dentatus '  and 
'  Macbeth.'  He  painted  nothing  without  first  making  careful 
studies  from  the  Elgin  Marbles,  then  from  nature,  and  always 
painted  from  a  living  model  before  him.  This  is  the  true 
principle — always  to  keep  nature  in  view  at  the  moment  of 
practice.  The  expense  was  terrible,  but  it  is  the  true  method, 
though  far  too  costly  and  troublesome  for  most  painters  to 
follow. 

I  must  return  for  a  moment  to  'Macbeth.'  Having  been 
sent  to  the  British  Gallery  (previous  to  the  appearance  of  the 
"  Three  Letters  ")  to  compete  for  the  prize  of  three  hundred 
guineas,  it  became  the  duty  of  the  directors,  in  April  1812,  to 
award  the  prize.  In  the  opinion  of  competent  judges  '  Macbeth ' 
was  far  ahead  of  anything  else  in  the  room.  But  how  could 
the  directors  now  award  the  prize  to  a  young  man  who  had  the 
audacity  to  ridicule  the  judgment  of  connoisseurs,  and  con- 
demn the  conduct  of  the  King's  Academy  ?  Here  was  their 
dilemma.  If  they  awarded  the  prize  to  Haydon  it  would  give 
offence  to  society,  to  the  connoisseurs,  by  the  breath  of  whose 
nostrils  they  lived,  and  to  the  Koyal  Academy,  which  they 
were  bound  to  support.  And  yet  they  could  not  conscien- 
tiously give  the  prize  to  any  other  of  the  competitors,  the 
works  of  these  being  so  inferior  to  '  Macbeth.'  What  was  to 
be  done  ?  Like  all  men  who  have  not  the  courage  of  their 
opinions,  the  directors  devised  an  "expedient" — that  hateful 
shelter  for  a  lie — the  refuge  of  every  form  of  weak  or  dis- 
honest administration.  They  would  give  prizes  to  nobody,  but 
they  would  take  the  prize  moneys,  five  hund  ed  guineas  in 
all,  which  they  had  pledged  their  honour  to  give  in  different 
prizes  to  different  classes  of  competitors,  and  go  into  the  town 


The  E&ecuUzonat: &JIeads  in,  •Solonu'ti  . 
First  pen-  sketch  October  <?*  1S13. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


79 


and  buy  for  their  own  gallery  a  picture  which  had  never  com- 
peted at  all.* 

Thus  they  said  to  themselves,  "  We  shall  get  well  out  of  our 
difficulty.  We  shall  not  reward  llaydon,  but  we  shall  not  do 
him  the  injustice  of  rewarding  anybody  else,  and  we  shall 
encourage  art.  Moreover,  we  shall  add  a  picture  to  our 
gallery." 

It  is  satisfactory  to  think  that  their  calculations  turned  out 
mistaken.  They  got  heartily  abused  by  all  parties  for  their 
unpardonable  breach  of  faith,  and  laughed  at  into  the  bargain 
for  buying  a  bad  picture!  Such  is  the  fate  of  men  when  they 
abandon  a  principle  for  what  they  deem  expedient. 

This  abstraction  from  Haydon  of  the  three  hundred  guineas 
prize  upon  which  he  had  counted,  and  which  he  had  fairly 
won,  was  the  first  serious  return  blow  he  received  for  his 
"  Three  Letters."  Coming  upon  the  top  of  Sir  George  Beau- 
mont's curiously  unkind  withdrawal,  it  hit  Haydon  as  hard  as 
his  best  enemies  could  well  wish.  His  warm  friends,  (Sir) 
Charles  Bell  and  Joseph  Strutt,  of  Derby,  came  to  his  support 
promptly.  And  it  is  due  to  Leigh  Hunt  and  his  brother 
John,  to  say  that,  they  offered  Haydon  all  the  assistance  their 
limited  means  allowed,  and  when  those  limits  were  reached, 
Leigh  Hunt  initiated  Haydon  into  the  mysteries  of  drawing 
and  discounting  bills,  of  which,  for  my  part,  I  heartily  desire 
he  had  remained  ignorant. 

Haydon  was  young,  he  was  in  good  health,  he  had  no 
encumbrances,  but  he  had  601)1.  of  debt  round  his  neck,  and 
no  money  of  his  own.  His  father  had  retired  from  his  busi- 
ness, and  indeed  died  a  few  months  after,  when  the  printing 
and  publishing  business,  with  the  interest  of  which  Haydon 
never  seems  to  have  troubled  his  head,  passed,  nobody  knows 
how,  to  nobody  knows  whom,  who  sold  it,  nobody  knows  why, 
and  disappeared  nobody  knows  where.  Thus  Haydon's  position 
was  becoming  critical.  He  felt  it,  and  knew  it,  but  he  was 
one  of  that  order  of  minds  which  never  waits  for  prosperity  and 
great  powers  for  the  accomplishment  of  its  object.  Men  who 
do,  never  effect  much  to  be  proud  of.    The  man  who  delays 

*  They  bought  Richter's  'Christ  Healing  the  Blind,'  according  to  Haydon's 
nntes.  It  is  only  fair  to  the  directors  to  add  that  they  sent  the  leading  compe- 
titors a  cheque  of  thirty  guineas  each  to  cover  their  "expenses."  Haydon  indig- 
nantly returned  his. — Ed. 


MEMOIR  OF 


his  attack  till 'the  next  morning '  generally  loses  the  battle 
or  finds  nothing  to  attack.  But  those  who  make  the  best  use 
they  can  of  the  apparently  inadequate  means  within  their 
reach,  and  trust  to  their  own  energies  and  constancy  to  carry 
them  through,  work  what  are  called  miracles — Haydon  wad 
essentially  one  of  these  men. 

For  the  next  twenty  months,  with  one  brief  visit  to  his  uncle 
at  Cheddar,  he  kept  closely  to  his  work.  Into  society  he  no 
longer  went,  and  society  neither  sought  nor  missed  him 
apparently.  Lord  Mulgrave  alone  remembered  him  enough 
to  send  him  to  see  the  Prince  Regent  open  Parliament 
(November,  1812).  It  was  on  this  occasion  Haydon  seeing 
Lord  Wellesley,  in  the  heat  of  debate,  throw  himself  into  the 
attitude  of  Eaphael's  St.  Paul  preaching  at  Athens,  conceived 
the  idea  of  a  series  of  pictures  on  a  grand  scale  for  the  de- 
coration of  the  Houses  of  Parliament,  illustrative  of  the 
principle  for  which  the  building  is  erected.  He  came  home 
full  of  the  subject  and  consulted  Wilkie,  who  was  delighted 
with  the  scheme,  and  William  Hamilton  of  the  Foreign  Uffice, 
who  suggested  Nero  burning  Rome  as  an  illustration  of 
Despotism.  Haydon  at  once  made  a  series  of  sketches,  and 
one  painting  of  the  House,  with  the  pictures  in  their  plac  s, 
which  I  well  remember,  and  very  striking  and  powerful  in 
effect  it  was.  But  there  was  no  hope  just  then  of  getting 
ministers  to  accept  any  plan  of  this  kind.  Europe  was  con- 
vulsed with  the  news  that  Napoleon  had  arrived  in  Paris  from 
Moscow,  but  without  his  army.  The  ministers  had  weightier 
matters  on  hand  than  art  and  decoration.  The  beginning  of 
the  end  of  an  Empire  was  at  hand. 

The  year  1813  came  and  passed,  and  brought  no  change  in 
Haydon's  situation.  By  the  end  of  the  year  he  was  reduced  to 
the  greatest  extremity  and  want.  His  father  was  dead,  his  allow- 
ance lost,  he  was  selling  his  books,  his  prints,  his  drawings,  his 
keepsakes,  his  very  clothes  to  pay  for  his  models  and  materials 
of  art,  and  for  part  of  the  little  food  he  allowed  himself.  Now 
and  then  the  thought  must  have  crossed  his  mind  like  Burns' — 

"  Had  I  to  gude  advice  but  larkit 
I  might,  by  this,  hae  led  a  market, 
Or  strutted  in  a  bank  and  clarkit 

My  cash  account ; 
While  here  half  mad,  half  fed,  half  sarkit, 
Is  a'  the  amount." 


Pen  Sketch  in  Journal,  1813. 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


81 


But  we  may  rely  on  it,  the  conclusion  each  time  revived  in 
Haydon  the  resolution  not  to  give  in.  And  he  was  right.  To 
be  weak  is  to  be  miserable.  Difficulties  should  only  rouse 
our  mettle  to  greater  energy  and  exertion.  But  the  strife  was 
hard.  Day  after  day,  during  the  latter  half  of  IS  13,  he  rose  to 
a  day  of  constant  toil,  and  never  to  sufficient  sustenance.  He 
fell  seriously  ill,  but  worked  on.  Through  neglect,  sickness,  and 
want,  I  never  find  him  flinching.  He  stands  his  ground  firmly, 
he  never  whines,  never  makes  a  complaint,  but  works  steadily 
on  with  the  confidence  that  conscious  ability  alone  gives.  It  is 
impossible  to  withhold  our  admiration  of  the  temper  and  judg- 
ment he  displays  at  this  period  of  his  life.  We  might  almost 
apply  to  him  the  complimentary  lines  of  Pope  to  his  friend 
Harley — 

"A  soul  supreme  in  each  hard  instance  tried, 
Above  all  pain,  all  passion,  and  all  pride, 
The  rage  of  power,  the  blast  of  public  breath, 
The  lust  of  lucre,  and  the  dread  of  death." 

In  his  painting-room,  Haydon  found  all  he  wanted.  Society's 
exclusion  of  him  drove  him  neither  into  misanthropy,  nor 
vice.  He  preserved  his  intellectual  health,  untainted.  He 
would  not  seek  to  distract  his  evenings  by  dissipation,  and  he 
refused  to  condemn  the  whole  race  in  one  sweeping  anathema 
of  hatred  and  contempt.  He  bided  his  time  like  a  man, 
working  on,  trusting  in  God,  hoping  much,  alone,  unaided  and, 
except  by  a  few  staunch  friends,  forgotten.  Who  amongst  us 
would,  at  that  age,  face  two  years  of  such  a  life  and  come  out 
of  it  so  free  from  the  levity  and  recklessness  of  bigotry  or  vice  ? 
Of  his  physical  health  he  was  not  so  careful.  He  lived  latterly 
on  potatoes  and  salt,  and  painted  himself  blind  at  the  last.  In 
an  agony  of  doubt  he  sent  for  Adams,  the  oculist.  Adams  was 
out.  Haydon  sent  for  a  "  cupper."  The  man  persuaded  him  to 
have  his  temporal  artery  opened.  Haydon  lay  down  for  the 
operation,  when  Adams  came  into  the  room  just  in  time  to  pre- 
vent the  mischief  which,  he  said,  would  have  blinded  the  painter 
for  life.  As  soon  as  Haydon  was  sufficiently  recovered  under 
Adams's  kind  care,  he  finished  the  picture,  and  in  good  time 
for  the  season  of  1814.*    Soon  the  rumour  got  about  town  that 

*  He  was  not  quite  satisfied  with  the  expression  of  Ihe  real  mother,  but,  just 
as  he  was  thinking  of  painting  her  out  he  overheard  an  old-woman  model  say  to 
herself,  "Ah,  poor  soul,  how  frightened  she  is!"    This  satislied  Haydon  he  had 
touched  a  chord  iu  the  human  heart,  and  he  left  tL  e  head  as  it  is.— Ed. 
VOL.  L  U 


MEMOIR  OF 


Haydon  bad  painted  a  great  picture,  and  was  going  to  exhibit 
it  alone.  "West,  the  President  of  the  Eoyal  Academy,  sud- 
denly called,  an  honour  he  had  never  before  conferred.  He 
looked  long  at  the  picture,  and  at  the  poor  pale  spectre  of  a 
painter,  half  blind,  half  starved,  standing  before  him.  "  This 
is  a  work,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice,  "  which  must  not  be  for- 
gotten," and  then,  he  began  to  cry.  After  a  while,  he  said, 
"Have  you  any  resources?"  '•  They  are  exhausted."  "Do 
you  want  money  ?"  "  Indeed,  I  do."  "  So  do  I,"  replied  West. 
"  They  have  stopped  my  income  from  the  King,*  bnt  Faunt- 
leroy  is  now  arranging  an  advance,  an  I,  if  I  succeed,  my 
young  friend,  you  shall  hear  from  me.  Don't  be  cast  down." 
In  the  course  of  the  day  there  came  a  cheque  from  him  for 
15?.,  with  a  note  that  appears  in  the  '  Correspondence.'  This 
was  good  of  West,  and  must  not  be  "  forgotten." 

Now  that  the  picture  was  finished  came  the  question  of  its 
exhibition.  Wilkie  wished  it  sent  to  the  Eoyal  Academy  to 
heal  all  wounds.  It  was  too  large,  I  think,  to  fit  into  the 
Octagon-room,  and,  to  this  extent  Wilkie  gave  prudent  counsel. 
But  the  "  scalded  cat  dreads  cold  water,"  and  Haydon  had 
already  suffered  so  much,  he  preferred  to  get  out  of  reach  of 
the  hose  of  Academy  and  British  Gallery,  and  so  the  picture 
was  sent  to  the  Water  Colour  Society,  then  in  Spring  Gardens. 

The  exhibition  opened,  and  among  the  first  visitors,  on  the 
private  day,  was  the  Princess  Charlotte  of  Wales.  In  at- 
tendance upon  her  Royal  Highness  was  Mr.  Payne  Knight, 
and  we  may  be  sure  that  when  he  saw  the  great  picture  before 
him,  he  well  knew  whose  work  it  was.  Walking  up  to  the 
canvas,  he  put  his  eye  close  and  called  aloud,  "Distorted 
stuff!"  then,  falling  back,  he  said  something  in  a  low  voice  to 
her  Royal  Highness,  who  turned  round  to  the  astonished 
directors,  and  with  all  the  grace  and  suavity  of  making  a  poor 
painter's  fortune  by  a  kind  word,  said  severely,  "  I  am  very 
sorry  to  see  such  a  picture  here,"  and  walked  away  without 
deigning  to  look  at  it  a  second  time.  When  this  was  repeated 
to  Haydon,  he  laughed,  and  said,  "  Well,  well !  I  feel  sorry, 

*  Queen  Charlotte,  who  hated  West,  because  ho  w  s  an  Americm  and  had 
hoen  honoured  by  N;ipohon  in  180.',  on  the  declared  insanity  of  the  King  bad 
used  her  great  influence  to  deprive  West,  now  in  his  eightieth  year,  of  the  ino  >nie 
(101)0/.  a  year)  allowed  him  bv  George  III.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  amu-ing  to 
remember  that  George  III.  had  originally  patronized  and  promoted  West  out  of 
dislike  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  who  was  intimate  with  Fox  and  Burke. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


8) 


too.  but  it  is  that  I  have  not  been  her  Royal  Highness's  in- 
structor in  art,  I  would  have  taught  her  better;"  and  he 
waited  with  resignation  for  the  public  day.  As  an  instance  of 
the  immediate  ill-effect  and  ultimate  no  effect  of  a  connois- 
seur's opinion  this  is  unique. 

When  the  Monday  came,  and  the  many  headed  monster  was 
admitted,  the  directors  were  quickly  relieved  of  all  alarm 
caused  by  the  disvalue  of  royalty.  Haydon's  superb  picture 
was  mobbed.  Competent  judges  declared  it  to  be  the  finest 
historical  work  ever  painted  by  an  Englishman.*  Mr.  Lock, 
of  Norbury  Park,  said  the  execution  had  never  been  exceeded. 
One  of  the  visitors  offered  Haydon  five  hundred  guineas  for  it 
on  the  spot.  He  declined ;  it  had  cost  him  more.  The  next 
day  a  deputation  of  the  directors  of  the  British  Gallery  came 
over  to  purchase  it  at  its  price,  seven  hundred  guineas. 
Whilst  they  were  talking  together,  admiring  its  beauties,  a 
private  gentleman,  a  Mr.  Tingcombe,  stepped  behind  to  the 
Secretary,  and  gave  him  a  cheque  for  the  amount.  The 
Secretary  walked  over  and  put  up  "  Sold."  "  Eh !  what !  "  said 
the  deputation,  "  but  we  have  come  to  buy  it."  "  But,  gentle- 
men, you  did  not  say  so,  and  this  gentleman  has  bought  it." 
The  deputation  retired  to  consider  their  position.  At  their 
next  meeting  they  voted  Haydon  one  hundred  guineas  as  an 
expression  of  their  admiration,  and  regret.  Meanwhile,  the 
rush  to  see  this  "  wonderful  work  "  continued.  The  "  thought- 
less rabble,"  as  Barry  called  society,  now  congratulated  Lord 
Mulgrave  and  Sir  George  Beaumont  upon  their  discern- 
ment, as  heartily  as  they  had  laughed  at  them  in  1809  for 
their  credulity,  and  forgetting  all  it  had  said  against  Haydon 

*  A  modern  critic  of  some  pretensions— Mr.  Watt*,  the  portrait  painter— has 
found  fault  with  Haydon's  '  Solomon,'  because  the  king  is  paintel  as  if  he  were 
ri'>t  really  in  earnest  when  ordering  the  child  to  be  cut  in  twain.  Like  Mrs. 
Overdo  in  the  play,  the  mind  of  Mr.  Watts  is  "  distempered  with  this  eno  mity." 
Unfortunately,  however,  f..r  Sir.  Watts,  the  error  is  in  his  supposing  that  Haydon's 
conception  of  Solomon  indicates  so  marvellous  an  inferiority  to  his  own ;  whereas 
it  is  altogether  Mr.  Watts  who  is  in  fault,  in  forgetting  that  Solomon  was  not  in 
earnest,  and  that  the  idea  which  is  embraced  by  Mr.  Watts  in  1852  1  ad  occurred 
to  Haydon  fifty  years  before,  and  been  rejected.  Thus  it  always  is  with  critics 
of  a  certain  class  of  mind.  They  miss  in  a  picture  the  very  tiling  they  would  not 
have  left  out,  and  hug  themselves  with  their  fancied  superiority.  In  Haydon's 
Journal  for  2nd  Oetober,  1812,  I  find  the  following:— "  All  painters  have,  I 
think,  erred  in  giving  too  much  of  an  appearance  of  earnestness  to  Solonv  n's 
judgment.  The  delicacy,  I  think,  is  to  give  the  incident  the  air  of  a  truth 
without  making  it  laughable,  so  that  tli6  spectator  may  see  the  ex*  cution  was 
not  meaned,  and  yet  feel  interest  for  the  niotuer,  who  thought  it  was." — Ed. 


34 


MEMOIR  OF 


two  years  before,  turned  round,  embraced  him  with  rapture 
as  the  apostle  of  High  Art,  and  made  a  "lion"  of  him  for  the 
rest  of  the  season.  Poor  society !  it  is  always  in  extremes  of 
morality,  of  profligacy,  of  praise,  or,  of  detraction.  If  society 
is  good  for  nothing  else,  it  is  certainly,  as  Hazlitt  said,  "a 
fine  subject  for  speculation."  Wearied  of  the  limited  sphere 
to  which  its  exertions  are  confined,  it  is  always  eager  for 
something  novel  and  exciting,  and  what  more  likely  to  relieve 
its  ennui  than  a  young  man  it  thought  starved,  coming  out 
with  real  flesh  on  his  bones,  and  with  a  picture  it  had 
never  seen,  on  a  subject  it  had  forgotten  ?  It  would  have 
been  no  great  credit  to  Haydon,  with  his  gifts,  if  he  had 
painted  such  a  work  at  ease  and  in  affluence.  But  the  relish 
of  the  whole  thing  was  that  he  had  actually  lived  and  painted 
it  under  circumstances  of  the  most  distressing  want.  That 
was  the  treat.  A  well-fed  man  of  genius  would  have  lost  half 
his  interest,  but  there  was  an  unspeakable  charm  about  a 
starving  one.* 

Haydon  received  their  advances  and  heard  their  praises,  but, 
although  he  enjoyed  his  triumph,  he  said  little.  He  might 
have  well  said  to  them  as  Johnson  said  to  Lord  Chesterfield, 
"  I  have  pushed  on  my  task  through  difficulties  of  which  it  is 
useless  to  complain,  without  one  act  of  assistance,  one  word 
of  encouragement,  one  smile  of  favour."  But,  whatever  his 
thoughts,  Haydon  held  his  peace,  and  left  London  early. 
His  position  at  the  head  of  the  art  was  decided.  He  had 
passed  far  beyond  all  his  contemporaries,  and  it  remained 
only  for  him  to  show  whether  the  progress  of  his  improve- 
ment would  cease  now  competition  had  ended.  Meanwhile, 
the  fame  of  the  picture  travelled  far  and  wide.  It  reached 
Scotland,  and  laid  the  foundation  of  those  sincere  friend- 
ships which  Haydon  retained  there  to  the  end  of  his  life.  It 
arrived  in  Plymouth,  and  so  delighted  the  townsfolk,  that 
the  Mayor  and  Corporation  called  a  meeting  and  unani- 
mously voted  Haydon  the  freedom  of  his  native  borough,  as 
a  mark  of  their  esteem  and  respect  for  his  industry,  ability, 
and  courage.    It  passed  over  to  Paris  and  excited  the  French 

*  As  Valere  says,  in  '  L'Avare,'  "  de  faire  bonne  chore  nvec  bicn  de  l'argent, 
c'cst  une  chose  la*  plus  aise'e  <lu  monde.  mais  pour  agir  en  habile  homme  il  f.iut 
p.uler  do  t'.mv  bonne  chore  avec  peu  d'argent,"  and  this  Ha)  don,  10  their  great 
delight,  had  done.  They  were  profuse  in  their  praises  accordingly.  But  they 
kept  their  purges  closed.— Ed. 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


S5 


artists  so  greatly,  they  begged  the  picture  to  be  sent  over  and 
exhibited  in  Paris.  It  reached  Italy  and  Home,  and  stimu- 
lated the  curiosity  of  Canova.  It  travelled  to  St.  Petersburg, 
and  aroused  Haydon's  great  Eussian  relatives  from  their 
lethargy  and  neglect.  They  suddenly  discovered  he  was  worth 
writing  to.  And  it  even  spread  into  India,  and  into  New 
South  Wales,  to  warm  the  hearts  of  old  schoolfellows  who 
remembered  him  trying  to  etch,  and  squeeze  off  impressions 
with  a  table-cloth  press. 

Before  he  left  London,  however,  an  event  occurred  which 
deserves  to  be  noted.  1  he  Royal  Academy,  through  Calcott, 
made  overtures  for  a  reconciliation.  They  were  willing  to  say, 
like  Robert  Macaire  to  the  gendarmes,  "  Let  us  all  embrace 
and  have  done."  They  offered,  if  Haydon  would  put  his  name 
down  once  more,  to  elect  him.  But  Haydon  seems  to  have 
had  grounds  for  doubting  the  complete  sincerity  of  the  offer, 
and  good  humouredly  declined.  The  fact  of  their  making 
such  a  proposal  casts  a  doubt.  It  was  easy  enough  for  them  to 
elect  Haydon,  and,  had  they  done  so,  they  would  have  put 
themselves  in  the  right  whether  he  accepted  the  election  or 
not.  To  ask  him,  at  such  a  moment,  to  solicit  election,  was 
to  show  a  marvellous  ignorance  of  human  nature.  A  man  who 
feels  his  own  worth  does  not  relish  the  petty  humiliations 
candidature  involves.  Or,  it  was  merely  a  point  of  cunning 
upon  which  the  academicians  hoped  to  take  a  fresh  advantage. 
If  that  were  so,  Haydon  did  not  fall  into  the  trap  so  cleverly 
baited,  and  the  little  comedy  collapsed  miserably.  Possibly  it 
was  as  well,  for  he  would  no  sooner  have  got  in  than,  he  would 
have  found  it  time  to  go  out.  The  publication  of  the  famous 
*  Catalogue  Raisonne,'  in  1816,  must  have  produced  a  frightful 
crisis  in  the  Academy  had  Haydon  been  a  member.* 

*  This  singular  publication,  which  I  have  heard  Haydon  attribute  to  a  Mr. 
Reinagle,  K.A.,  and,  I  believe,  rightly,  arose  nut  of  the  first  exhibition  of  works 
ol'  the  old  masters  at  the  British  Gallery,  an  exhibition  Haydon  warmly  supp>  >rted. 
The  contrast  between  their  art  and  the  art  of  the  Royal  Academicians  was  s  , 
striking,  it  was  necessary,  in  the  interest  of  the  portrait  painters,  some  eilort 
should  be  made  to  nip  such  exhibitions  in  the  bud,  lest  the  tastj  of  the  public 
should  get  above  the  level  of  academic  painting.  I  have  never  seen  more  than 
extracts  from  this  remaikable  production,  and  certainly  those  were  marked  by  a 
vulgarity  of  art  and  style  worthy  of  the  scurrility  of  Temple's  best  pamphleteers. 
Haydon  and  his  friends  are  abused  in  it  con  amore.  The  authors  were  so  con- 
scious of  its  iniquitous  character,  that  neither  writer,  printer,  nor  publisher,  put 
his  name  to  the  work.  "The  academicians,"  Haydon  writes,  "  hailed  its  appear- 
uuce,  and  Northcote  (E.A.)  told  me  he  was  so  delighted  with  it, he  ordered  a  long 


86 


MEMOIR  OF 


Before  the  end  of  the  season  (1814),  Haydon  and  Wilkie  had 
started  for  Paris.  Napoleon  had  just  been  dethroned,  the  road 
was  open,  and  the  Louvre  was  full  of  all  the  finest  works  of  the 
best  masters  which,  after  the  manner  of  victorious  Rome, 
Napoleon  had  transferred  to  his  capital.  Such  an  opportunity 
to  examine  such  works  might  never  be  offered  again.  All  the 
schools  of  the  Continent,  the  Italian,  Flemish,  Dutch,  French, 
and  Spanish  schools,  were  well  represented  in  the  Louvre. 
There  were  twenty-five  works  of  Eaphael,  twenty-three  of 
Titian,  thirty  three  of  Vandyke,  fifty-three  of  Rubens,  thirty- 
one  of  Rembrandt,  sixteen  of  Domenichino,  twenty-three  of 
Guido,  twenty-six  of  Guercino,  thirty-six  of  Annibale  Carracci, 
with  a  vast  collection  of  the  works  of  other  painters.  To  .study 
these  works  was  a  delight  never  to  come  to  him  again.  Haydon 
remained  three  months  in  Paris.  He  returned  to  England  in 
October,  confirmed  in  his  love  for  High  Art,  but  not,  I  think, 
quite  settled  in  his  determination  to  try  further  and  induce 
his  countrymen  to  support  it.  When  he  arrived  home,  the 
freedom  of  his  native  borough,  Plymouth,  but  not  ono 
single  offer  of  a  commission  awaited  him !  One  would  have 
hoped  that  if  he  had  won  a  claim  to  notice,  he  had  won  a 
claim  to  employment.  He  had  painted  what  every  competent 
judge  had  pronounced  to  be  the  greatest  historical  work  ever 
painted  in  the  English  school ;  and  he  had  painted  it  under 
circumstances  which  had  tested  his  capacity  to  conceive  and 
his  power  to  execute,  and  shown  that  he  possessed  patience 
equal  to  his  ability.  But  not  one  single  commission  from  the 
Court,  the  nobility,  or  from  any  quarter  was  his  reward.  Is 
there  any  explanation  but  one,  the  utter  indifference  of  the 
majority  of  the  nobility  of  that  day  to  works  of  genius  and 
imagination,  or  for  anything  in  art  that  was  not  mean  and 
mechanical  ? 

Vet  Haydon  loved  England  as  a  Roman  had  loved  Rome. 
He  knew  what  the  art  of  the  country  could  effect  if  vigorously 
supported  and  employed,  and  he  felt  that  he  was  the  man  to 

candle,  and  went  to  bed  to  read  it  with  ecstasy."  All  things  considered,  I  am 
not  sony  Haydon  did  not  enter  the  Academy  on  this  occasion.  For  a  man  like 
Haydon  is  not  likely  to  remain  quiet  if  the  changes  he  de-ires  are  not  made;  and 
had  he  been  engaged  in  a  haud-to-hand  struggle  with  the  Academy  Council 
inside  its  walls,  we  should  have  had  neither  the  '  Jerusalem'  nor  the  '  Lazarus.' 
Il  might  have  been  a  benefit  to  the  Academy,  but  it  would  have  been  a  loss  to 
art.— Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


87 


employ  it  vigorously  if  the  patrons  would  afford  him  an  oppor- 
tunity, or  Government  grant  him  the  means.  But  the  Govern- 
ment was  too  busy,  and  the  taste  of  the  aristocracy  and  patrons 
too  low.  They  preferred,  and  I  believe,  mostly  prefer  still,  an 
annual  exhibition  of  the  portraits  of  their  wives  and  families  to 
the  decoration  of  their  houses  and  halls  by  great  works  on 
great  subjects,  or  the  admission  into  them  of  historic  works 
of  life-size.  These  do  not  suit  their  ideas  of  "  furniture."  A 
love  for  native  high  art  does  not  exist  among  the  English 
nobility.  They  blame  the  artists,  they  blame  the  climate, 
they  blame  the  smoke ;  but,  in  truth,  it  is  they  who  are  in 
fault.  They  have  no  desire,  no  taste,  no  sensibility  for  art 
further  than  it  "  ministers  to  their  vanity,  or  transmits  to  the 
admiration  of  their  posterity  the  beauty  and  grace  of  their 
wives  and  children."    This  was  Haydon's  deliberate  opinion. 

If  they  had  possessed  any  feeling  for  high  art,  commissions 
would  certainly  have  followed  upon  Haydon's  '  Judgment  of 
Solomon.'  But  the  same  neglect  that  was  shown  by  them  to 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  'Hercules,'  and  to  Flaxman's  '  Designs,' 
was  shown  to  Haydon's  '  Solomon.'  He  was  only  twenty-eight 
years  of  age,  he  was  in  the  spring-time  of  his  power,  and  no 
one  can  doubt  that  had  he  even  been  employed  as  West  was, 
with  only  1000J.  a-year  from  the  Crown,  he  would  have  pro- 
duced noble  works  worthy  of  the  nation,  and  of  the  patronage 
bestowed.  But  no  such  opportunity  was  afforded  to  Haydon. 
He  at  least  was  a  luxury  they  did  not  desire,  and  a  listless  and 
supercilious  society  which  believes  mankind  expressly  created 
for  its  own  convenience  and  amusement,  "  et  qui  ne  cherche  qu'a 
faire  grande  chere,  et  qui  croit  que  Dieu  l'a  mise  au  monde  pour 
tenir  table,"  was  of  opinion  it  had  done  its  duty  by  honouring 
his  picture  with  an  inspection,  and  bowing  to  the  painter  as 
they  left  the  room. 

From  their  general  neglect  of  the  arts  as  a  branch  of  study 
and  education,  Society  had  then  no  feeling  for  art,  and  no  notion 
of  its  public  function,  or,  their  public  duty.  The  illiterate 
barons  of  the  feudal  ages  were  more  capable  of  feeling  and 
appreciating  ideal  art  than  the  society  of  Haydon's  day.  It 
may  be  a  fair  question,  whether  we,  with  all  our  cram,  called 
culture,  are  so  much  improved  as  we  flatter  ourselves.  Is  the 
mass  of  society  more  capable  of  estimating  the  beauties  of  art, 
are  they  more  sensible  of  its  intrinsic  worth  than  formerly  ? 


£8 


MEMOIR  OF 


We  hear  a  vast  deal  about  the  progress  of  the  arts,  and  the 
spread  of  a  fine  taste ;  but  I  strongly  suspect  Society  is  very 
like  the  woman  in  the  play,  when  she  prefers  "  a  roast  duck  " 
to  "  all  the  birds  in  the  heathen  mythology ;"  for  is  not  the 
chief  pleasure  of  Englishmen  now,  as  then,  and  of  English- 
women, in  what  Barry  contemptuously  calls  that  "  daubing  of 
inconsequential  things "  in  lieu  of  any  finer  and  higher  art  ? 
The  strange  insensibility  (with  one  or  two  brilliant  exceptions) 
of  our  public  men,  towards  art  and  in  the  interests  of  art,  is  too 
notorious.  We  buy  more  pictures,  and  more  money  is  now 
spent  upon  art  in  England  than  was  spent  fifty  years  ago.  But 
the  diffusion  of  any  particular  taste  does  not  necessarily  imply 
its  elevation  or  improvement.  Certainly  if  we  may  judge  by 
the  ugliness  or  anomalies  of  our  public  buildings,  and  the 
expensive  vulgarity  of  our  domestic  decorations,  the  love  for 
the  beautiful,  and  the  power  of  appreciating  what  is  beautiful, 
is  not  even  widely  spread  amongst  us.  Improvement  is  a 
plant  of  slow  growth,  and  this  apparently  rapid  diffusion  of  a 
taste  for  art,  which  we  are  witnessing,  is  too  often  mere 
vanity,  or  what  is  worse,  a  mere  dealer's  speculation,  neither 
of  which  is  calculated  to  improve  the  art  or  the  artist,  or 
elevate  the  public  taste.  As  for  people  in  society  generally, 
they  seem  only  seeking  to  acquire  just  sufficient  information 
upon  art  to  escape  being  laughed  at,  and  not  to  escape  it. 
do  into  any  modern  exhibition,  and  what  do  we  see  but  a 
number  of  persons  puttng  their  noses  close  to  a  picture,  and 
let  its  intellectual  qualities  be  what  they  may,  condemn  or 
praise  it  in  proportion  to  its  mechanical  excellence.  "  Nothing 
bold  or  masculine,  grand  or  powerful,  touches  an  English 
connoisseur,"  wrote  Haydon,  fifty  years  ago.  "  It  must  be 
small  and  highly  wrought,  vulgar  and  humorous,  broad  and 
palpable."  And  is  it  not  so  still  ?  Where  are  the  works  of 
High  Art?  And  do  people  in  general  society  ever  think  or 
talk  of  the  moral  effect  of  art,  or  on  the  source  of  intellectual 
delight  great  efforts  afford  ?  Nothing  of  the  kind  ;  a  string  of 
technical  phrases  that  are  for  ever  on  the  tongue,  are  per- 
petually uttered  without  effort  or  reflection.  Thus  all  the 
delight  of  English  society  in  art,  all  their  ideas  of  art  do  not 
go  beyond  the  immediate  object  of  their  senses.  "  The  vague- 
ness of  Nature,"  as  Haydon  said,  "  annoys  them.  Everything 
must  be  complete  or  absent."    The  exact  copy  of  a  lady's  lace, 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


*9 


or  of  a  pale  violet  silk  dress,  or  a  pink  and  ■white  muslin  cos- 
tume, or  of  flowers,  brilliant  and  metallic,  or  of  some  elaborate 
peacock,  or  pathetic  pony,  or  some  vulgar  incident  in  street 
life,  interests  them  far  more  than  would  a  poetical  work  of  the 
finest  form  and  expression,  or  the  grandest  painting  of  the 
Crucifixion  by  the  greatest  painter.  Raphael  and  Michel 
Angelo  would  have  starved  in  these  days,  unless  they  had  con- 
sented to  be  a  dealer's  hack,  or  paint  portraits  or  vulgar  sub- 
jects.   Is  this  proof  of  improved  taste  ? 

I  am  not  presuming  to  condemn  the  English  artists,  or  to 
deny  the  grace  and  beauty  of  delicate  finish,  or  that  an  effort 
of  intellect  may  be  shown  in  the  due  arrangement  of  minute 
details  of  fur  and  feathers,  of  a  bodice  and  sleeves  of  a  skirt 
and  flounces ;  but  that  striking  want  of  culture  among  people 
in  society,  that  want  of  feeling  for  art,  which  sees  only  the 
individual  likeness  of  the  thing  or  its  absence,  and  there  ends 
their  delight  or  displeasure.  Society  knows  nothing,  thinks 
nothing,  feels  nothing  of  the  poetry,  the  design,  the  intellect 
of  the  artist.  The  observation  he  displays,  the  ideas  excited 
in  his  mind,  are  the  last  things  society  apprehends.  Un- 
educated persons  might  be  forgiven,  but  to  see  the  expensively 
instructed  and  refined  classes  wedging  their  noses  together 
against  a  picture  as  if  it  were  something  to  be  smelled,  and 
then  to  hear  them  uttering  exclamations  of  rapture,  over 
what?  The  character,  the  mind  which  is  shown?  Nothing 
of  the  sort — over  the  Ihitch  part  only — the  hair  and  feathers, 
the  blades  of  grass,  the  pattern  of  the  plaid  trousers,  or  the 
delicate  texture  of  the  lace  shawl,  hiding  my  lady's  beautiful 
shoulders.  Give  them  these  things,  indoor,  polished,  and 
insipid,  and  you  will  hear  terms  of  admiration  that  would  be 
applicable  only  to  thj  grandest  work  of  the  highest  art,  em- 
ployed upon  the  mere  mechanical  excellence  that  is  before 
them.  Is  this  to  be  the  end  of  our  art  education  ?  Is  the 
superiority  of  High  Art  over  this  more  mechanical  art  of  imita- 
tion never  to  be  appreciated  amongst  us  ?  Is  close  imitation 
of  still  life,  and  elaborate  polish,  all  we  in  England  are  fitted  to 
receive,  while  beauty  and  grandeur  of  subject,  combined  with 
truth  of  imitation  of  human  expression,  human  passions,  and 
external  nature,  find  support  only  among  our  Continental 
rivals  ? 

In  1814  Haydon  debated  deeply  whether  he  should  leave 


9° 


MEMOIR  OF 


England  for  good,  or  stay  and  continue  to  employ  his  talents  in 
the  service  of  those  who  had  none.  His  position,  too,  was  more 
brilliant  than  solid  and  satisfactory.  He  had  scarcely  any  money 
left  by  the  end  of  1814.  To  again  go  through  all  the  anxieties, 
harass,  and  want  he  had  suffered  while  painting  the  '  Solomon,' 
was  a  cruel  prospect,  and  yet  there  seemed  nothing  more 
certain  before  him.  He  debated  the  matter  within  himself  for 
many  weeks.  For  although  he  was  always  impetuous  and  often 
rash,  and  proportionally  easy  in  fitting  his  conclusion  to  his 
wish,  he  was  not  without  a  certain  judicial  skill,  and  would 
severely  cross-examine  himself  and  his  prospects.  At  length 
he  formed  his  course.  He  would  follow  out  his  original  plan. 
He  would  paint  and  exhibit  three  great  pictures  of  leading 
events  in  our  Saviour's  life,  'His  Entry  into  Jerusalem,' ' His 
Raising  of  Lazarus,'  and  'His  Crucifixion;'  three  subjects 
which  would  allow  him  to  express  feeling,  emotion,  and  passion, 
and  in  such  a  manner  as  should  not  only  give  pleasure  to  the 
eye,  but  appeal  to  the  heai't  and  mind,  and  tend  to  promote 
the  moral  welfare  of  his  fellow-men.  Having  completed  this 
series,  he  should  consider  he  had  done  his  duty  in  support  of 
English  historical  painting.  If  the  Government  chose  to 
employ  him  in  the  decoration  of  our  public  buildings,  or  the 
nobility  commissioned  him  to  decorate  their  houses  by  recording 
the  great  deeds  of  their  ancestors,  or  the  bishops,  to  paint  altar- 
pieces,  he  would  remain  in  England ;  if  not,  he  would  leave 
the  country  for  good,  and  settle  in  Italy,  or  in  Russia,  where 
his  high  Court  connections  promised  him  distinguished  patron- 
age, and  constant  employment. 

He  lived  to  regret,  and  I  for  one  have  never  ceased  to  regret 
for  his  sake,  though  it  seems  un-English  to  say  so,  that  he  did 
not  adhere  to  this  resolve. 

For  a  man  already  in  debt,  with  no  capital,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  being  well  plundered  by  all  about  him,  so  great  a 
scheme  extending  over  at  least  ten  years  of  close  application, 
seems  little  better  than  an  illusion,  but  in  sober  fact  it  was 
nothing  of  the  kind.  Haydon  was  a  shrewd  if  a  bold  specu- 
lator. He  had  observed  such  crowds  come  to  see  the 
'  Solomon,'  that,  had  it  been  exhibited  alone  and  on  his  own 
risk,  it  would  have  placed  a  large  sum  to  his  credit,  in  addi- 
tion to  its  sale.  This  was  partly  the  result  of  the  next  exhibi- 
tion, and  would  have  been  the  result  of  the  third  and  fourth  if 


First'  Study  for  Jerusalem,  7S74. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


9i 


the  scheme  had  not  been  interrupted.  But  TTaydon  in  the 
interval  unfortunately  married  a  beautiful  wife,  and  although 
I  have  every  reason  to  be  grateful  to  him  for  so  doing, 
1  am  bound  to  say,  it  was  in  one  sense,  the  most  imprudent  act 
of  his  whole  life.  For,  if  there  is  one  thing  a  creditor  never 
forgives,  it  is  the  iniquity  of  his  debtor  enjoying  domestic 
happiness.  That  is  the  last  straw  which  destroys  usurious 
patience.  They  can  appreciate  any  other  kind  of  luxury  and 
convenience  for  your  enjoyment  and  accommodation  but  that. 
So  long  as  you  remain  single  they  consider  you  safe.  The 
moment  you  marry,  something  excites  their  apprehensions, 
your  prospects  seem  critical,  and  they  ruin  you  without  remorse 
for  taking  the  only  step  to  enable  you  to  pay  off  your  debts. 

It  was  the  month  of  October,  1814,  before  Haydon  fairly 
settled  the  composition  of  his  next  great  picture,  that  "  stupen- 
dous work,"  as  Eastlake  calls  it,  '  The  Entry  of  our  Lord  into 
Jerusalem.'  In  consequence  of  serious  attacks  of  blindness 
from  over-application,  it  was  not  until  the  spring  of  1820  this 
picture  was  finished  and  ready  for  exhibition ;  but,  as  Words- 
worth said  to  me  in  184S,  "  it  was  worth  waiting  fifty  years  to 
get  so  complete  a  work."  With  this  picture  as  with  his  pre- 
vious works,  Haydon  pursued  the  same  course.  He  first  studied 
and  drew  before  painting,  and  always  painted  with  the  living 
model  before  him.  "  Every  nostril,  every  finger-nail,"  says 
Bewick,  who  was  daily  with  him  in  his  painting  room  from 
1817  to  1820,  "will  be  found  a  complete  study." 

Within  these  five  years  of  patient  and  enduring  application 
Haydon  suffered  much  personal  annoyance.  Cold  men  of  taste 
sneered  at  him  to  his  face.  Comfortable  portrait  painters,  who 
scamped  their  work  at  high  j  rices,  laughed  at  the  solitary 
student,  who  spent  rive  years  over  a  single  picture,  as  a  fool,  and 
hated  him  as  a  rebuke.  But  others,  not  understanding  him,  yet 
feeling  that  he  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  sink,  when  applied  to, 
gave  help,  and  from  time  to  time  advanced  him  large  sums  of 
money.  Dawson  Turner,  Mr.  Harman,  Mr.  Coutts,  Mr.  Watson 
Taylor,  during  these  years  mainly  supported  him.  This  was 
generous  and  kind,  for  the  advance  was  intended  as  a  gift,  that 
is  evident  by  their  letters,  but  it  was  not  the  way  a  man  like 
Haydon  should  have  been  helped,  and  it  had  a  flavour  of  the 
art  of  living  upon  nothing,  and  making  the  best  of  it,  in  its 
most  seductive  form.    If  these  good  friends  had  subscribed 


92 


MEMOIR  OF 


say  21007.,  and  paid  it  over  to  him  as  the  price  of  the 
picture  when  finished,  and  cast  lots  for  its  possession,  or  pre- 
sented it  to  the  National  Gallery,  they  would  have  conferred 
an  honour,  as  well  as  a  benefit  upon  the  painter,  have  done 
credit  to  themselves  and  have  enriched  the  national  collection. 
But  these  perpetual  loans  did  him  injury.  It  was  not  reward, 
it  was  bounty ;  something  just  above  charity ;  but  which 
degraded  him  in  his  own  estimation,  loosened  his  sense  of 
pecuniary  obligation,  and  when  withheld,  drove  him  to  the  pro- 
fessional money  lender  at  G'J  per  cent.  His  ruin  was  then 
certain,  his  relief  doubtful,  and  the  picture  was  not  secured.* 

In  the  interval  of  1814  and  1820,  and  before  the  exhibition  of 
the  '  Jerusalem,  two  events  occurred  in  connection  with  English 
art  and  Lord  Castlereagh's  and  Haydon's  relations  thereto 
which  must  not  in  fairness  be  passed  over. 

On  the  conclusion  of  peace  in  1815,  Lord  Castlereagh — and 
this  deserves  to  be  remembered  to  his  credit — obtained  a  vote 
of  500,0007.  for  the  erection  of  a  Waterloo  monument,  in  which 
painting,  sculpture,  and  architecture,  were  to  have  been  united. 
It  seems  more  than  probable  that  Haydon  indirectly  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  suggesting  the  proposal.  lie  makes  little 
reference  to  it  in  his  correspondence  on  the  subject,  and  that  is 
one  reason  I  suspect  him, — he  was  always  remarkably  prudent  as 
to  his  relations  with  men  in  power, — but  he  watched  the  matter 
closely.  A  committee  of  the  House  was  appointed  to  consider 
the  subject,  models  were  sent  in,  and  an  official  communication 

*  Many  persons  will  feel — and  Haydon  himself  in  af.er  ye  rs.  when  writing 
his  Autobiography,  frankly  admits— that  this  practice  of  borrowing  to  enable 
him  to  complete  one  great  picture,  instead  of  earning  money  for  himself  by 
painting  portiaits  a>id  cabinet  pictures,  was  wrong.  And  at  first  sight  it  appears 
so.  But  I  am  satisfied,  when  condemning  himself  on  this  point,  he  had 
forgotten  the  circumstances  of  the  time.  His  position  was  quite  exceptional. 
Between  1S14  and  18'^0  his  eyes  were  too  weak  to  paint  on  a  small  scale.  In 
tliese  years  he  never  could  have 'done  it.  He  could  not  always  write:  lie  could 
only  dictate.  Out  of  the  five  years  he  was  engaged  in  painting  the  '  Jcrusah  m,' 
and'  that  on  the  scale  of  life,  he  must  have  been  nearly  two  years  compelled  to 
abstain  wholly  from  punting  on  account  of  his  sight.  And  secondly,  with  t,.o 
exceptions  of  a  commi-sion  for  a  three-quarter  life-size  picture  from  Sir  George 
Phillips,  wlii  h  he  painted,  and  one  oil',  red  by  Sir  John  Broughton,  which  ho 
could  not  paint,  being  a  cabinet  picture;  and  another  by  Sir  John  Leicester, 
whic.i  w  is  made  over  to  Bewick,  at  Haydon's  request;  and  one  from  Mr.  Thomas 
Hope,  for  a  small  picture,  which  he  could  not  see  to  paint— Haydorj  never  was 
asked  to  paint  even  a  portrait.  It  is  idle  to  blame  him  for  not  doing  that  which 
he  had  no  opportunity  of  doing,  and  of  which,  if  the  opportunities  bad  occurred, 
he  could  not  have  taken  advantage.  His  Journals  and  letters  were  often  written 
by  his  pupils  at  his  dictation,  and,  if  he  could  not  see  to  wr.te,  and  could  not  sea 
to  paint  large,  lie  certainly  could  not  see  to  paint  small. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


93 


was  made  to  the  Koyal  Academy  for  their  assistance.  Hay  don 
looked  eagerly  for  their  answer.  It  never  arrived  at  the 
Treasury.  '1  he  application  was  considered  by  the  Council  of 
the  Royal  Academy,  and  on  the  suggestion  of  Mr.  (Sir  Martin) 
Shee  no  answer  was  returned.  Lord  Castlereagh,  disgusted  at 
such  conduct,  and  privately  learning  the  real  reason,  broke  up 
the  whole  scheme,  and  never  proposed  it  again.  The  explanation 
of  the  behaviour  of  the  Academy  Council  is  to  be  found  in 
their  pique  and  resentment  against  Lord  Castlereagh  for  not 
having  acknowledged  or  noticed  a  previous  proposal  of  their 
own  for  the  advancement  of  the  arts.  As  an  instance  of  their 
interest  in  art,  and  of  Lord  Castlereagh's  qualifications  as  a 
minister,  it  is  unique  on  both  sides. 

Haydon,  who  was  deeply  concerned  in  the  success  of  the 
proposal,  was  proportionately  mortified  at  this  fiasco.  Hut  the 
time  did  not  seem  opportune  to  make  a  public  matter  of  it. 
Possibly  he  felt  it  was  idle  to  further  upbraid  the  Koyal 
Academicians  for  their  uses t of  power,  so  long  as  that  power 
was  put  into  their  hands  without  conditions. 

The  second  event  to  which  I  have  referred  related  to  the 
Elgin  Marbles.  The  Greek  origin  of  these,  we  have  seen,  had 
been  keenly  debated  ever  since  their  arrival  in  England  in 
1807-8.  Haydon,  maintaining  they  were  the  purest  Greek, 
the  work  of  Phidias,  and  far  superior  to  any  known  works, 
Mr.  Payne  Knight,  with  Lord  Aberdeen  and  the  Dilettanti 
generally,  unhesitatingly  condemned  them  as  partly  spurious, 
partly  Roman,  and  partly  the  work  of  Greek  journeymen — in 
short,  altogether  inferior  works  unworthy  of  England's  purchase, 
"poor  things,"  as  Mr.  Payne  Knight  habitually  spoke  of  them. 
These  assertions,  like  Orlando's  horse,  had  every  merit,  with 
the  one  fault  of  being  dead.  And  Haydon  thought  this  such 
a  serious  fault  they  ought,  in  his  opinion,  to  have  been  long 
since  buried  out  of  sight  and  hearing.  Put  the  Government, 
having  no  knowledge  or  opinion  of  its  own,  thought  differently, 
and  refused  to  sanction  the  purchase ;  and  thus  the  matter 
stood.  In  1815,  Canova,  the  great  sculptor  from  Rome,  arrived 
in  England.  He  was  officially  taken  to  inspect  the  Elgin 
Marbles  and  his  opinion  asked.  Canova  had  lived  all  his  lifo 
among,  and  his  practice  had  been  formed  upon,  the  inferior 
antique  at  Rome.  When  he  saw  the  Elgin  fragments  he 
looked  at  them  long  and  silently,  then  he  pronounced  them 


9  + 


MEMOIR  OF 


the  finest  and  purest  Greek  antiques  the  world  possessed. 
"Ces  statues,"  he  said  to  Haydon,  "produiront  un  grand 
changcment  dans  les  arts.  lis  renverseront  le  systeme  mathe- 
matique  des  autres."  To  W.  Hamilton,  Lord  Elgin's  secretary, 
he  said,  "  0  that  I  were  a  young  man  and  bad  to  begin  again ! 
I  should  work  on  totally  different  principles  from  what  I  have 
done,  and  form,  I  hope,  an  entirely  new  school."  After  this, 
the  objections  of  the  Government  gave  way  to  the  extent  of 
appointing  a  committee  "to  inquire,"  with  the  view  to  the 
ultimate  purchase,  or,  final  rejection  of  the  marbles.  The  com- 
mittee was  regarded  as  a  hostile  committee  ;  so  much  so,  that 
the  King  of  Bavaria  secretly  lodged  30,OOOZ.  with  his  London 
agents  for  immediate  advance  to  Lord  Elgin,  if  opportunity 
offered,  and  the  other  European  sovereigns  were  watchful. 
The  committee  opened  its  proceedings.  West,  President  of 
the  Royal  Academy,  Lawrence,  Nollekens,  Elaxman,  and  West- 
macott,  were  summoned  on  the  side  of  English  art;  on  the 
side  of  the  connoisseurs,  Mr.  Payne  Knight,  Lord  Aberdeen, 
Sir  Charles  Long,  Lord  Farnborough,  and  seven  others.  Lord 
Elgin's  chief  witnesses  were  W.  Hamilton  and  Haydon. 

Lord  Elgin  and  Haydon  were  both  favourably  impressed 
with  the  committee  at  opening,  but  it  soon  began  to  show  the 
cloven  foot.  The  favourable  witnesses  were  hurried  over,  but  to 
the  opposite  side  was  paid  the  greatest  attention  and  respect.  Of 
the  professional  witnesses,  Nollekens  called  them  "  fine  things," 
Westmacott  called  them  "  good  things."  ]-  laxman  said  they 
were  "  the  most  excellent  things  of  the  kind  he  had  seen, 
though  he  preferred  the  Apollo  Belvedere  to  the  Theseus" 
(the  gods  forgive  him  !).  Chantrey  said,  "they  were  according 
to  nature  in  the  grand  style."  West  feebly  praised  them,  but 
Lawrence  spoke  out  for  tbem  manfully.  He  said  he  considered 
them  "  examples  of  the  highest  style  of  art,  of  essential  im- 
portance to  art,  and  particularly  to  historical  painting."  Mr. 
Payne  Knight  was  equally  decided.  He  said  Lord  Landsdowne's 
Venus  or  Mercury  was  "  each  worth  any  two  "  of  the  "  articles  " 
in  Lord  Elgin's  collection,  that  the  Theseus  was  "  spurious," 
and  the  rest  of  the  "  articles  very  poor."  Lord  Aberdeen  and 
his  friends  followed  in  much  the  same  strain.  And  then  came 
the  turn  for  the  examination  of  Lord  Elgin's  professional 
witness,  Haydon.  For  three  days,  on  one  plea  or  another, 
Haydon  was  put  off  by  the  committee.  At  length  on  the  after- 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


noou  of  the  third  they  commissioned  Mr.  Bankes,  M.P.,  one  of 
their  number,  to  inform  Lord  Elgin  that  "  Mr.  Haydon  would 
not  be  examined,  out  of  delicacy  to  Mr.  Payne  Knight." 
Nothing  more  was  necessary  so  far  as  Haydon  was  concerned. 
A  hurried  consultation  took  place  in  Westminster  Hall  with 
Lord  Elgin  and  W.  Hamilton.  Haydon  then  walked  home 
with  W.  Hamilton,  vowing  he  would  make  the  committee 
remember  him  to  the  last  day  of  their  existence.  Hamilton, 
who  knew  his  carelessness  of  consequences,  begged  him  to  be 
moderate,  suggesting,  at  the  same  time,  that  he  should  head  his 
letter  with  the  following  appropriate  quotation  : — 

"  Ceci  s'adresse  a  vous,  esprits  du  dernier  ordre 
Qui,  n'etant  bons  a  rien,  cherchez  surtout  a  mordre, 

Yous  vous  tourmentez  vainement. 
Croyez-vous  que  vos  dents  impriment  leurs  outrages 

Sur  tant  de  beaux  ouvrages  ? 
lis  sout  pour  vous  d'airain,  d'acier,  de  diamant." 

Haydon  searched  out  the  passage,  and  next  Sunday,  in  the 
'  Examiner '  and  '  Champion '  newspapers,  there  appeared  a 
letter  signed  B.  R.  Haydon,  headed  by  the  above  lines,  and 
entitled,  "  On  the  Judgment  of  Connoisseurs  being  preferred  to 
that  of  Professional  Men,"  that  set  all  London  by  the  ears. 
For  depth,  and  fervour,  and  bold  and  bitter  truths,  and  pas- 
sionate reverence  for  his  art,  it  surpassed  anything  Haydon  had 
written  or  spoken  previously,  and  it  was  in  good  taste  and 
style.  It  fell  like  a  shell  into  the  midst  of  the  committee, 
and  settled  Mr.  Payne  Knight  as  an  authority  upon  art  for  the 
rest  of  his  career.  But  its  force  and  home-truths  gave  the 
deepest  offence,  and  were  never  forgotten  or  forgiven  by  the 
nobility.  It  wounded  their  pride,  and  Haydon  increased  the 
affront  by  being  an  Englishman,  and  a  painter  of  consummate 
ability.  "  It  has  saved  the  marbles,"  said  Sir  Thomas  Law- 
rence, "  but  it  will  ruin  Haydon  "  It  did  both.*  The  letter 
was  translated  into  French,  Italian,  and  German,  and  spread 

*  Years  afterwards,  in  a  conversation  with  Jeremiah  Hnrman,  the  banker  and 
art  connoisseur,  Haydon  said,  in  ref  rence  to  Ids  own  ruin,  "My  crime  was  in 
refuting  I'ayne  Knight.''  "It  was,"  said  Mr.  Harman.  "And  I  shall  never  be 
forgiven"  "You  ought  not,"  retorted  Mr.  Haimnn;  "young  men  should  never 
give  themselves  airs."  That  is  just  it.  The  Elgin  Marbles  might  be  lost  to  the 
nation,  and  England  left  to  the  laughter  and  scorn  of  Europe,  because  Mr.  Payne 
Knight,  being  a  man  of  rank  and  connexions,  and  a  leading  connoisseur  in  art,  is 
not  to  bo  refuted  by  a  young  painter  who  knows  better,  but  of  no  position  in 
society.  It  is  often  said  that  a  democracy  revmges,  and  it  may  be  true,  but  it  is 
certainly  true  that  an  aristocracy  never  forgives."— Ed, 


96 


MEMOIR  OF 


all  over  Europe.  Goethe  and  Rurnohr  were  delighted  with  it. 
Goethe  refers  to  it  in  his  works ;  h'uraohr  speaks  of  it  as 
masterly.  Dannecker  showed  it  with  pride  to  Lord  Elgin  at 
Dresden.  A  copy  of  it  was  found  by  Rurnohr  upon  the 
Ilissus  in  the  Magliabecchian  Library  at  Florence,  and  even 
the  gentle  Eastlake  revelled  in  it  at  Home.  Its  effect  upon 
London  society  was  exaggerated  and  absurd.  Instead  of  send- 
ing Haydon  to  Coventry,  as  they  had  done  in  1812,  they  now 
crowded  to  his  house  to  pay  their  respects  in  such  numbers, 
his  front  doors  were  obliged  to  be  kept  open  all  day  for  several 
days  in  succession.  The  whole  neighbourhood  was  in  an  up- 
roar of  carriages,  like  a  court  day  at  St.  James's.  As  regards 
Haydon,  anything  more  ludicrous  and  painful  can  hardly  be 
conceived  of  London  society,  and  its  artificial  sentiment,  except 
its  previous,  and  iis  subsequent  conduct.  Just  as  he  bad  lost 
his  reputation  four  years  before,  he  had  now  unintentionally 
doubled  it,  for  a  time,  by  a  similar  act.  But  whatever  its  ulti- 
mate consequences,  it  brought  him  immediate  troubles  of  a 
laughable  kind  he  had  not  anticipated.  He  became  the 
"  lion "  of  the  season.  Public  societies,  a  sure  sign  of  your 
prosperity,  sought  the  honour  of  his  "  name  and  subscription." 
Illustrious  dukes  called  upon  him.  Fine  ladies  coaxed  him  out 
of  pen  sketches  for  their  albums.  Clergymen  "  entreated  "  his 
interest  with  patrons  and  ministers  to  give  them  livings,  or 
make  them  deans  and  bishops.  More  modest  applicants  sought 
"  appointments  only  "  under  government.  Strangers  sonneted 
him,  and  asked  his  autograph,  which,  of  course,  meaned  a  cheque 
or  a  sketch.  Refugees  openly  begged  his  "  generous  charity," 
and  the  young  art-students,  as  a  delicate  compliment,  shaved 
their  whiskers  and  wore  square-toed  boots  and  broad-brimmed 
hats  in  imitation  of  their  idol.  Then  they  called  upon  him  to 
"  discuss  the  Elgin  Marbles."  All  this  was  highly  troublesome 
to  Haydon,  who  hated  to  be  disturbed  in  his  painting- room, 
and  had  no  money  to  subscribe,  interest  to  give  away,  or  time 
for  gossip.  Nor  did  his  own  circle  of  private  friends  behave 
less  absurdly.  They  appear  to  have  written  sonnets  in  turn. 
Leigh  Hunt  in  the  character  of  a  "bard,"  led  the  way.  He 
"  approves  and  blesses."  M-ss  Mitford  "  sheds  tears."  Rey- 
nolds apostrophises  him  as  the  "  saviour  of  art."  Somebody 
else  sends  him  to  heaven  as  a  modern  Raphael  and  Michel 
Angelo  rolled  into  one.    Another  adds  the  qualities  of  Leo- 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


97 


nardo  to  his  credit,  and  calls  upon  Europe  to  build  him  a 
palace  and  endow  him  with  riches.  Wordsworth  and  Keats 
were  the  only  two  who  kept  their  judgment  and  wrote  some- 
thing sensible.  But  the  rest  "adulated"  him  to  a  degree  that 
first  flattered  him,  then  made  him  angry,  then  made  him  laugh, 
and  ultimately  showed  him  how  difficult  and  delicate  a  matter 
it  is  for  a  man  of  any  fame  to  regulate  the  ardour  and 
enthusiasm  of  zealous  friends.  They  always  are  so  ardent, 
kind  and  enthusiastic  about  their  hero,  they  are  very  likely 
with  the  best  intentions  to  prove  his  worst  enemies.  But 
they  get  some  little  fame  themselves  by  admiring  what  they 
cannot  do. 

The  argument  put  forward  by  Haydon  in  this  famous  letter  is 
not,  as  has  been  erroneously  represented,  that  an  unprofessional 
opinion  upon  a  professional  subject  is  never  to  be  accepted, 
but  that  in  art  as  in  science  it  ought  not  to  be  preferred  to 
that  of  the  professional  man. 

The  question  seems  to  me  beset  with  difficulties.  Certainly, 
as  Haydon  says,  in  no  other  profession  but  painting  and  poetry 
is  the  opinion  of  the  man  who  has  studied  it  only  for  his  amuse- 
ment, preferred  to  that  of  one  who  has  devoted  his  life  to  excel 
in  it.  And  this  ought  not  to  be.  In  surgery  or  science  we  do 
not  call  in  an  amateur  to  decide  on  surgical  or  scientific  ques- 
tions ;  why  then  in  art,  which  is  of  equal  rank  with  surgery  and 
science,  should  the  opinion  of  an  amateur  be  accepted  ?  If 
the  amateur  possesses  all  the  necessary  qualifications  to  enable 
him  to  decide  justly,  he  is  practically  no  longer  an  amateur, 
but  a  non-practising  professional,  and  in  that  case,  other  things 
being  equal,  the  professional  in  practice  must  be  the  superior 
man.  In  lower  matters,  the  distinction  seems  to  lie  between 
the  power  of  doing  a  thing  in  detail,  and  that  of  perceiving  it  to 
be  well  done.  But  still  the  man  who  has  exercised  his  under- 
standing as  well  as  practised  his  hand,  and  acquired  the  power 
to  produce,  is  superior  to  the  man  who  has  only  the  capacity 
to  feel  the  result. 

Throughout  these  continued  contests  with  "  authority,"  what 
distinguishes  Haydon  from  most  controversialists  seems  to  me 
the  extraordinary  disregard  he  exhibits  for  his  own  interests. 
It  is  not  the  sincerity  of  his  convictions,  or  the  tenacity  he 
displays,  but  the  total  disregard  he  shows  for  his  own  worldly 
interests  and  advantages.    Bold  and  contemptuous  of  all  con- 

VOL.  I.  H 


98 


MEMOIR  OF 


sequences  to  himself,  he  breathes  only  for  the  cause  of  truth 
and  the  interests  of  English  art.  "  Never,"  he  says,  "  while  I 
live  or  have  an  intellect  to  detect  a  difference  or  a  hand  to 
write,  never  will  I  suffer  a  leading  man  in  art  to  put  forth 
pernicious  sophisms  without  doing  my  best  to  refute  him,  or 
unjustly  to  censure  fine  works  by  opinions  without  doing  my 
best  to  expose  them."  You  have  only  to  flaunt  before  him  a 
sophism  or  an  unsound  opinion  upon  art,  and  he  rushes  at  it 
like  a  bull  at  the  banderilla,  catches  his  foe  on  the  point  of 
his  horns,  gores  and  tramples  him  out  of  all  shape,  and  then 
tosses  the  poor  bundle  of  rags  contemptuously  up  to  its 
aristocratic  owners.  His  great  faults,  and  these  were  not 
diminished  by  years,  were  a  want  of  that  aristocratic  hard- 
ness which  renders  a  man  indifferent  to  personal  success,  and 
consequently  a  certain  absence  of  control  over  himself  and  his 
subject,  and  of  tenderness  for  the  interests  and  prejudices  of 
others.  A  truly  wise  man  never  despises  the  prejudices  of  his 
opponents.  Haydon  forgot  that  honest  men  of  all  ways  of 
thinking  believe  themselves  to  be  in  the  right,  and  that  many 
who  differed  from  him  might  be  equally  positive  and  in  earnest 
though  in  error.  But  perhaps  he  had  proofs,  or  thought  he 
had,  that  the  men  who  chiefly  opposed  him  were  not  honest ; 
he  certainly  believed  they  were  not.  Then  his  mind  was 
not  sufficiently  restrained  and  circumspect.  This  may  be 
accounted  for  by  his  natural  hatred  of  cant  and  his  natural 
eagerness  to  speak  out  what  was  in  him,  and  by  a  certain 
inability  to  put  himself  into  another's  point  of  view.  Very 
few  men  succeed  in  doing  this.  Yet  he  was  never  malignant, 
never  wilfully  unjust,  but,  without  being  subtle  in  the  least 
degree,  he  had  that  vice  of  subtle  minds  of  attaching  too  much 
importance  to  slight  resemblances,  and  an  unfortunate  tendency 
to  judge  individuals  with  whom  he  had  no  acquaintance,  from 
his  knowledge  of  the  "  party  "  to  which  they  belonged.  These 
were  his  faults,  and  I  hope  I  have  stated  them  fairly.  They 
are  dangerous  faults  in  a  controversialist,  but  they  are  common 
enough,  and  in  Haydon  were  nobly  redeemed.  With  him 
they  were  faults  of  defective  training,  and  although  these  are 
to  be  regretted  and  condemned,  they  must  not  be  allowed  to 
overshadow  his  undoubtedly  great  services  to  art. 

Since  his  return  from  Paris,  Haydon  had  been  so  besought 
by  applicants  that  he  was  compelled  to  establish  a  school  of 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


99 


pupils.  By  1816  lie  had  gathered  about  a  strong  school  of 
highly  promising  young  men.  That  distinguished  man  and 
fine  gentleman,  ISir  Charles  Eastlake,  had  been  Haydon's  first 
pupil  in  1813.  Now  the  elder  Landseers  (Thomas  and  Charles), 
Harvey,  Chatfield,  Lance,  Prentis,  Bewick,  and  several  others 
joined.*  They  were  all  young  men,  full  of  high  design,  and 
became  deeply  attached  to  Hay  don,  for  he  had  that  prompt 
and  living  sympathy  with  their  feelings  and  aspirations  which 
endears  a  man  so  much  to  the  younger  men  about  him.  Then 
he  was  so  conscientious  a  teacher,  and  never  spared  himself, 
never,  like  the  Earl  of  Chatham  at  Walcheren,  thought  about 
his  health,  or,  of  his  "  bon  bouillon  de  tortue,  au  lieu  de  se 
livrer  aux  details  de  l'expedition  qui  lui  etait  confiee."  On  the 
contrary,  Haydon  slaved  himself  in  order  to  make  his  investi- 
gations thorough,  and  his  instruction  complete.  Whether  a  boy 
was  rich,  or  poor,  mattered  little  enough  to  Haydon,  provided  he 
was  industrious  and  showed  talent.  "  Only  be  industrious  and 
succeed  in  your  art,"  he  said  to  Bewick,  who  feared  to  be  re- 
jected because  he  was  too  poor  to  pay  any  premium,  "  and  that 
is  all  I  require."  If  a  lad  did  not  show  the  ability  he  wanted, 
nothing  would  induce  Haydon  to  take  him  as  a  pupil.  "  What 
must  I  feel,"  writes  Bewick  (MOtk  March,  1S17),  "when  Mr. 
Haydon  rejects  so  many  young  men  who  come  to  him  with 
letters  of  recommendation,  and  who  have  offered  him  large 
sums  of  money !  One  young  man  came  recommended  from 
Edinburgh ;  Mr.  Haydon  (as  he  says)  soon  found  out  what 
he  was,  and  recommended  him  to  begin  immediately  with 
portraits." 

Of  Lance,  the  fruit  painter,  a  charming  story  is  told.  Lance 

*  Tt  is  made  a  matter  of  reproach  against  Haydon  by  biographers,  that  none  of 
his  pupils  followed  him  in  historic  art.  "  He  is  the  only  painter  of  any  eminence 
who  left  no  school."  For  the  matter  of  that,  "  leaving  a  school"  is  no  particular 
proof  of  want  of  individual  ability  in  ihc  professor — in  art  or  in  politics,  or  in  any 
profession.  And  in  the  case  of  Haydon.  I  should  have  been  surprised  if  any  of 
his  pupils — granting  that  they  were  equal  to  it— had  followed  his  paiticu'ar 
style  of  art,  sc  eing  to  what  misery  and  ruin  the  neghct  of  the  English  nobility 
and  their  dislike  to  English  historical  1  uniting  rcduc;  d  their  master.  No  man 
will  educate  his  son  to  famine.  Besidi  s,  could  Haydon  do  more  than  he  did  for 
his  pupils,  which  was  to  direct  their  minds  towards  that  particular  depaitraent  of 
art  for  which,  in  his  judgment,  they  were  best  fitted?  To  Edwin  Landsecr.  to 
his  two  brothers  (Thomas  and  Chnrlis),  to  Eastlake,  to  Bewick,  to  Lance,  and 
to  others,  he  assigned  iheir  several  lines.  They  followed  them,  and  who  will  be 
bold  enough  to  say  they  did  not  succeed?  At  least  in  this  respect  Haydon  can 
compare  well  with  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  for  who  ever  heard  of  any  of  his  pupils 
but  one — Northcote?  And  yet  lie  must  have  had  hundreds  pa-s  through  his 
studio.    Where  are  their  works?— Ed. 

H  2 


MEMOIR  OF 


came  to  London  as  a  boy,  found  out  Haydon,  and  tremblingly 
called  on  him  and  asked  his  "  terms."  "  Terms,  my  little 
man  !  "  said  Haydon ;  "  when  I  take  pupils  I  don't  ask  the  length 
•  of  their  fathers'  purses.  Let  me  see  your  drawings,  and  if  you 
have  talent,  and  are  industrious,  I  will  teach  you  for  nothing." 
Lance  showed  some  beautiful  drawings,  was  at  once  accepted, 
and  became  one  of  Haydon's  distinguished  pupils.  Then 
Edwin  Landseer,  seeing  his  elder  brothers  advancing  so  rapidly, 
errew  eager  for  instruction.  He  never  seems  to  have  worked 
like  the  rest  in  Haydon's  studio,  but  to  have  come  every  week 
to  eret  instruction,  show  his  work,  and  get  more  instruction, 
returning  home  to  work  it  out.  Haydon,  seeing  his  strong 
tendency  towards  dogs  and  animals,  gave  him  his  own  dissec- 
tions of  a  lioness  to  copy,  and  directed  him  to  dissect  animals 
as  the  only  mode  of  acquiring  a  correct  knowledge  of  their 
internal  construction,  and  guided  his  studies.  When  Edwin 
Landseer's  drawings  were  sufficiently  advanced,  Haydon  took  a 
portfolio  of  them  one  evening  to  a  grand  dinner  at  Sir  George 
Beaumont's,  and  after  coffee,  showed  them  round  to  the  ministers 
and  nobility  who  were  there,  recommending  young  Landseer  to 
their  especial  notice  as  a  boy  of  great  promise,  and  this  Land- 
seer amply  redeemed.  In  the  same  way  Haydon  started 
Bewick  as  a  painter  by  begging  Lord  de  Dunstanville  to  allow 
him  to  transfer  a  commission  to  Bewick,  which  was  agreed  to, 
and  Bewick  gave  such  satisfaction  he  obtained  an  order  for  a 
companion  piece. 

In  a  stormy  life  of  so  much  personal  strife  and  harass  of 
mind  as  Haydon's,  it  is  pleasant  to  turn  aside  for  a  moment 
and  look  on  the  proofs,  amidst  all  his  own  struggles  and  dis- 
tresses, which  he  daily  gives  of  his  most  affectionate  and 
generous  interest  in  the  success  of  others,  and  it  was  not  by 
any  means  confined  to  his  art.  He  was  often  called  on,  and 
always  ready  to  share  his  slender  purse,  his  food,  his  clothes,  his 
house,  and  among  his  pupils  the  very  patronage  by  which  he 
lived,  in  order  to  advance  the  interests  of  others.  Most  of 
them  felt  and  acknowledged  this  in  after  life.  Chatfield 
repeatedly  calls  him  his  "father."  "  lie  assured,"  writes 
Eastlake  to  him  in  1825,  "be  assured  that  your  early  kindness 
to  me  is  among  those  obligations  1  am  least  likely  to  forget." 
"  You  will  have  heard,"  writes  Bewick  to  his  brother  (17th 
Se  ptember,  181G),  "  how  1  have  been  befriended  by  Mr.  Haydon. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


...  I  really  do  not  know  how  I  shall  ever  be  able  to  recom- 
pense hirn  for  all  that  he  has  clone  for  me."  The  whole  family 
of  the  Landseers,  father  and  children — with  one  marked  ex- 
ception I  regret  to  say,  that  of  Edwin — write  and  send  him  a 
joint  letter  at  Christmas  1818,  begging  him  to  accept  their 
cartoon  drawings  for  his  forthcoming  exhibition  as  a  mark  of 
their  gratitude  and  regard.  The  terms  in  which  the  letter  is 
expressed  are  highly  honourable  to  both  pupils  and  teacher. 
"  We  bear  in  mind,"  they  say,  "  your  offer  of  payment,  but  we 
bear  in  mind  also  the  instruction,  &c,  which  our  family  has 
received  at  your  hands,  of  which  we  request  you  to  accept  the 
drawings  as  an  acknowledgment,  not  as  a  compensation."* 
Nor  were  Haydon's  generous  exertions  always  confined  to  his 
pupils.  When  Belzoni  died  and  his  widow  fell  into  difficulties, 
when  Lough,  the  sculptor,  first  came  starving  to  London  in 
1827,  Haydon,  although  pressed  to  the  earth  on  each  occasion, 
befriended  them  in  every  way  in  his  power,  and  fagged  him- 
self ill  in  Lough's  case  to  bring  his  fine  works  into  public 
notice.  The  union  of  such  perfect  disinterestednesss  with  great 
talents  is  not  often  found  in  other  professions  than  those  of  art 
and  literature.  And  the  poor  never  applied  to  him  in  vain. 
"  Why  did  you  send  to  me  ?"  he  once  expostulated  with  a  for- 
saken outcast  who  had  written  to  beg  for  assistance;  "why 
send  to  a  poor  man  like  me  ?"  "  Because  I  heard  you  were 
humane."  .  That  was  his  character. 

Haydon's  pupils  made  such  rapid  progress  that  he  deter- 
mined in  1816  on  a  trial  which  should  test  their  powers  to  the 
v+most  and  show  the  public  what  English  students,  when  pro- 
perly instructed,  could  do.  He  obtained  leave  from  his  Eoyal 
Highness  the  Prince  Regent  for  two  of  Raphael's  cartoons  to  bo 
brought  up  from  Hampton  Court  to  the  British  Gallery  for  his 
pupils  to  copy.  The  Prince  Regent  ordered  the  'Paul  at 
Athens '  and  the  '  Draught  of  Fishes '  to  be  sent  up  to  the 
1  British  Gallery,  and  Haydon  and  his  pupils  at  once  moved 
in  and  made  fine  copies,  Haydon  drawing  the  heads  and 
figures  of  St.  Paul  full  size.  As  soon  as  finished,  cartoons 
and  copies  were  hung  up  for  exhibition  and  the  gallery  thrown 
open  to  the  public.    The  people  came  in  such  crowds,  the 

*  Why  Edwin  Landseer  refused  (o  sign  tin's  ktter  I  c.mnot  positively  say. 
Haydon,  with  wounded  feelings  has  explained  it  in  a  note,  writtt  n,  apparently, 
on  receipt  of  the  letter:  "Edwin  I,uihU<mt,  though  under  as  great  obligations  to 
my  instruction,  and  more  for  bringing  (him)  forward  in  the  world— lor  I  auld  hia 
first  picture — did  not  sign,  for  fear  of  the  Academy ." — Ed. 


102 


MEMOIR  OF 


doors  were  ordered  to  be  closed  for  fear  of  damage.  At  first 
they  refused  to  believe  tbe  copies  were  the  work  of  any  but 
Italians.  When  it  was  known  they  were  the  work  of  young- 
Englishmen  the  excitement  became  intense,  but  nothing  came 
of  it.  Haydon  says  lie  was  overwhelmed  with  anonymous 
letters  "threatening  him  with  vengeance  "  if  he  continued  to 
work  against  the  interests  of  the  Koyal  Academy  in  this  way. 
"  Had  there  been  no  Academy,"  he  writes  in  his  Journal,  "  the 
art  would  have  gone  on  from  this  day  for  ever.  But  their  bile 
was  roused,  and  by  ridicule  and  abuse,  and  attributing  the 
basest  motives  to  me  they  succeeded  in  so  alarming  the 
directors  that  all  the  good  was  rendered  nugatory.  Kothing 
came  of  it,  and  nothing  ever  will  whilst  that  body,  under  the 
mask  of  doing  good  to  art,  seek  only  their  predominance,  and 
by  standing  between  the  nobility  and  the  people,  baffle  every 
attempt  to  enlighten  either." 

Before  this  eventful  year  181 G  closed,  Haydon  made  a 
further  attempt  to  improve  the  general  prospects  of  the  art. 
He  submitted  to  the  noble  directors  of  the  British  Gallery 
a  detailed  plan  for  annually  offering  first  and  second  prizes 
from  a  hundred  guineas  down  to  twenty  guineas  for  the 
fiist  and  second  best  pictures  of  history,  landscape,  genre 
painting,  poetical  heads,  down  to  studies  from  statues.  As 
an  instance  of  his  earnest  desire  to  deal  fairly  by  all  branches 
of  the  art  it  is  notable.  The  plan,  however,  did  not  find  the 
support  he  expected  from  the  directors.  They  were  timid  noble- 
men, and  on  being  told  it  would  bring  them  into  collision  with 
the  interests  of  the  Boyal  Academy,  they  hesitated  to  adopt  so 
bold  a  proposal.  Haydon  attributed  the  rejection  of  his  plan 
to  the  influence  of  the  academicians,  and  explains  the  timidity 
of  the  nobility  by  want  of  real  knowledge  of  art.  "  With  no 
art  tutors  at  college,  the  nobility  leave  college  just  as  wise  in 
art  as  they  enter  it.  .  .  .  Too  happy  to  lean  on  anyone  for 
instruction,  they  become  the  tools  of  an  academic  clique." 

The  next  three  years  were  passed  by  Haydon  in  a  whirl  of 
excitement  and  work.  He  appears  to  have  gone  out  once 
more  into  society,  while  his  own  "  breakfasts "  at  his  house 
in  Lisson  Grove  *  became  celebrated  in  London,  not  only 
for  their  hospitality,  but  for  the  number  of  distinguished 

*  Haydon  had  now  removed  to  a  house  in  Lisson  Orove  North,  fcniU  by  Rosn, 
tlio  Royal  Academician.  It  had  a  sp  icious  pninting-ioow  attached,  and  here  the 
happiest  years  of  Ilaydoii's  life  were  passed. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


men  who  frequented  his  table.  In  1817  the  Imperial  Grand 
Duke  Nicolas  of  Kussia  had  come  to  England,  and  his  brothei 
the  Grand  Duke  Michael  followed  in  1818,  and  both  had 
desired  Haydon  to  be  presented,  and  had  commanded  his 
attendance  at  their  inspection  of  the  Elgin  Marbles.  Haydon 
was  received  with  marked  distinction  and  favour  by  both. 
The  Grand  Duke  Nicolas,  on  discovering  Haydon  to  be 
nephew  to  General  Cobley,  then  commander-in-chief  at  Odessa, 
and  with  whom  the  Grand  Duke  had  recently  spent  three 
weeks  at  Odessa,  treated  Haydon  "a  rnerveille."  In  the 
midst  of  their  conversation  the  Grand  Duke  suddenly  said, 
"  Vous  etes  un  peintre  d'histoire.  Ou  sont  vos  tableaux  ? 
Dans  quel  edifice  public  ?"  His  Imperial  Highness  had  a  better 
notion  of  one  of  the  functions  of  art  than  either  the  British 
sovereign,  his  administration,  or  nobility.  "  Altesse  Imperiale," 
replied  Haydon  promptly,  "  dans  ce  pays-ci,  a  present,  on  ne 
place  pas  de  tableaux  d'histoire  clans  les  edifices  publics."  The 
Grand  Duke  looked  hard  at  him  to  see  if  he  was  passing  a 
joke  on  Imperial  Kussia,  but  finding  a  curious  expression  of 
disappointment  on  Haydon's  face  he  changed  the  subject, 
turned  to  the  "  Theseus "  and  discussed  the  beauty  of  the 
marbles.  The  Grand  Duke  expressed  a  wish  to  see  more  of 
Haydon,  to  whom  he  seemed  to  have  taken  a  great  liking, 
but  if  it  had  come  really  to  the  point,  I  do  not  believe  Haydon 
would  ever  have  left  his  country.  He  was  too  thoroughly 
proud  of  her  and  of  her  great  and  enthusiastic  people.  With 
the  Grand  Duke  Michael,  who  came  over  in  1818,  Haydon  was 
not  so  much  struck.  He  says  he  had  less  feeling  for  art,  less 
grandeur,  less  sublimity  of  soul,  than  his  illustrious  brother 
Nicolas.  The  Grand  Duke,  however,  called  on  Haydon,  and 
paid  a  long  visit  to  his  studio,  inspected  his  studies  and  his 
picture  of  '  Jerusalem,'  which  was  then  much  advanced,  paid 
him  many  high  compliments,  and  expressed  his  Imperial 
Brother's  hope  to  see  him  one  day  at  St.  Petersburg.  Alas  ! 
my  poor  father,  why  did  you  not  go?  The  Minister  of  Police, 
it  is  true,  might  have  sent  you  to  the  Caucasus  for  some  passing 
indiscretion,  but  he  never  would  have  left  you  to  die  broken- 
hearted by  pecuniary  distress.  You  would  at  least  have  had 
the  pay  and  rat  ons  of  a  private  soldier.  In  England  you  did 
not  even  get  that. 

Haydon's  position  seemed  now  established.    He  was  at  the 


MEMOIR  OF 


head  of  his  Art,  and  the  Leader  of  the  Opposition  to  the  Roy:;! 
Academy.  This  at  least  consoled  him  for  their  rejection  of 
him  in  1800,  and  it  gratified  his  love  of  distinction.  But  the 
latter  was  not  altogether  the  post  for  him,  as  it  involved 
him  in  perpetual  petty  conflicts  with  the  Eoyal  Academy, 
made  him  the  mark  for  much  envy  and  hatred,  and  drew  off 
his  attention  from  his  ea^el.  But  still  it  was  necessary  to 
defend  the  privileges  of  lay  artists  against  the  constant  en- 
croachments of  the  Royal  Academy ;  and  he  was  the  only 
man  in  a  position  to  occupy  the  advanced  post  with  any 
safety.  But  it  kept  his  brain  in  a  state  of  restless  agita- 
tion. He  was  of  course  a  constant  contributor  to  the  '  Annals 
of  the  Arts.'  In  fact,  that  was  his  special  organ,  as  it  circu- 
lated widely  among  the  educated  classes,  for  advancing  his 
views  and  opinions  upon  art.  IMauy  of  his  most  valuable  con- 
tributions to  the  history  of  art  are  to  be  found  in  its  pages  at 
this  period.  But  Haydon  did  not  confine  himself  wholly  to 
severe  writing.  He  indulged,  and  not  infrequently,  in  amus- 
ing ridicule  of  the  Academy  and  its  practice ;  and,  with  that 
gift  he  had  of  hitting  off  a  character  in  a  phrase,  he  sometimes 
made  Academicians  ridiculous.  It  is  to  be  observed,  how- 
ever, that  he  always  spares  Turner  and  a  few  more,  on  account 
of  their  undoubted  genius.  I  remember,  in  one  of  the  "Dreams 
of  Somniator,"  a  distinguished  French  painter  is  introduced  to 
the  Academy,  and  the  conversation  turns  upon  the  "  Vehicle 
of  the  Ancients."  The  President,  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  whose 
peculiar  weakness  it  was  to  imagine  he  could  talk  French,  is 
made  to  say  that,  in  his  opinion,  the  vehicle  "  etait  composte 
de  la  wax  des  abbayles ; "  upon  which  the  polite  Frenchman 
expresses  his  complete  assent,  and  compliments  Sir  Thomas 
upon  his  perfect  knowledge  of  the  French  language  ! 

But  this  sort  of  light  sword-play  did  him  no  harm.  It  was 
only  when  he  thought  himself  called  upon  to  "  draw  blood  "  in 
the  interests  of  art,  his  friends  prayed  for  the  destruction  of  all 
pens,  ink,  and  paper  within  his  reach.  For  example,  just  as 
tiie  year  1817  was  closing,  he  found  himself  embroiled  with  the 
Academy  in  its  official  character  and  position.  It  appears 
that,  by  Haydon's  influence,  the  cartoon  of  Ananias  had  been 
ordered  by  the  Prince  Regent  to  be  sent  up  to  the  British 
Gallery.  The  Academy,  who  were  responsible  (and  I  can  quite 
sympathise  with  them),  felt  aggrieved  at  these  proceedings. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


105 


In  the  first  place,  the  responsibility  of  rolling  and  moving  up 
cartoons  from  Hampton  Court,  hanging  them  in  a  public  gal- 
lery for  several  months,  and  then  returning  them  to  Hampton 
Court,  was  not  ideal,  but  anxious.  And  when  this  order,  which 
they  durst  not  disobey,  was  given  for  the  second  time  without 
consultation  with  them,  and  against  their  expressed  opinions 
as  the  official  guardians  responsible  for  the  safety  of  the  car- 
toons, and  only  in  consequence  of  Haydon's  superior  influence 
at  Court,  I  can  understand  their  feelings,  and  their  very 
natural  desire  to  terminate  that  responsibility  at  the  earliest 
moment,  consistent  with  their  duty.  Thus,  when  the  season  of 
1817  had  closed,  and  the  Court  had  left  town,  the  authorities 
at  the  Academy  unexpectedly  ordered  the  cartoon  to  be  taken 
down  and  returned.  This  was  strictly  within  their  official 
right,  but  there  was  an  air  of  ungraciousness  about  the  act 
the  absence  of  due  notice  did  not  diminish.  Annoyance  and 
disappointment  to  those-  students  who  were  in  the  midst  of 
their  cartoon  studies  was  the  result.  In  a  body  they  sought 
Haydon's  interference  ;  Haydon  at  once  interested  himself, 
and  begged  that  the  cartoon  might  be  allowed  to  remain  some 
months  longer.  The  Academy  curtly  refused ;  Haydon  expos- 
tulated. A  correspondence  began ;  the  smouldering  passions 
of  both  sides  were  soon  fanned,  and  a  furious  controversy  broke 
out.  Haydon  made  a  public  matter  of  it ;  wrote  a  pamphlet, 
which  attracted  much  attention  ;  and,  in  the  '  Annals  of  the  Arts,' 
he  attacked  the  conduct  of  the  Academy  with  such  bitterness 
and  sarcasm  that  a  general  meeting  of  academicians  was  called 
by  the  Council  in  order  to  take  his  statements  "  into  considera- 
tion." Their  intention,  I  believe,  was  to  direct  his  prosecution 
for  an  alleged  libel.  Fuseli,  however,  interfered ;  and  by  his 
advice,  the  meeting  contented  itself  with  entering  on  their 
records  the  fact  of  the  cartoon  being  lent  to  the  Gallery,  and 
the  official  right  of  the  Academy  to  claim  it  in  their  discretion. 
But  the  bitter  invective  of  Haydon  festered  in  their  memory 
for  years.  Many  of  Haydon's  friends,  and  particularly  his 
judicially-minded  friend  Sir  George  Beaumont,  regretted  to 
see  his  mind  so  diverted  from  his  ease],  and  his  fine  powers 
wasted,  as  they  held,  on  such  matters  which  any  other  man 
could  have  dealt  with  as  well — perhaps  better;  for  Haydon 
showed  he  was  angry,  and  satire  is  always  better  and  more 
biting  for  being  kept  cool.     Yet  it  must  be  remembered 


MEMOIR  OF 


Haydon  never  attacked  the  Academy  for  applause,  always  for 
utility,  and  in  defence  of  the  interests  of  the  public  and  of  art, 
just  as  a  man  hunts  a  mischievous  hen  out  of  his  garden  lest 
she  rake  up  the  good  seed  he  has  sown.  His  accomplished 
friend  Wyborn,  I  must  however  admit,  approved  of  Haydon's 
course  of  action  on  this  occasion.  He  writes  from  Paris 
(1st  November,  1817),  "  I  entirely  agree  with  you  in  the 
reprobation  such  conduct  merits  from  all  lovers  of  art.  What 
strikes  me  with  wonder  is  that  such  men  as  Wilkie  and  Sir 
Thomas  Lawrence,  aided  by  Fuseli,  whom  you  praise  for  his 
liberality  of  thinking,  should  not  have  influence  enough  to 
check  the  party  zeal  of  the  majority.  Perhaps  a  dislike  to  a 
state  of  warfare  may  operate  on  the  mind  of  the  amiable 
Wilkie,  to  induce  him  to  remain  a  silent  spectator  of  conduct 
he  must  be  sorry  for." 

Charles  Hayter,  on  the  other  hand,  entreats  Haydon  not  to 
so  misspend  his  strength.  "  Nothing  more,"  he  writes  in 
friendly  remonstrance,  "  is  wanting  in  you  to  ensure  the  wreath 
of  fame  but  to  dedicate  all  your  mind  to  the  subjects  of  your 
canvas,  and  not  exhaust  it  on  the  never-to-be-corrected  inca- 
pacities and  errors  of  others.  If  you  must  write,  and  that  I 
think  you  should,  for  you  have  clear  ideas  and  a  most  intel- 
ligible diction,  let  it  be  like  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  for  the  art, 
not  troubling  yourself  with  a  thought  of  those  you  know  or 
imagine  to  be  its  enemies.  .  .  .  Every  man  and  every  body 
of  men  have  feelings  which  I  think  it  a  folly  for  you  to 
waste  a  thought  on."  This  was  a  style  of  reasoning  that 
did  not  recommend  itself  to  Haydon.  The  power  of  the 
Academy  was  too  great,  and  its  activity  too  incessant  to 
be  despised.  But  I  must  admit,  since  he  had  established  a 
"  school "  a  dread  of  the  Academy  seems  to  haunt  Haydon, 
often  renders  him  uneasy,  perhaps  morbidly  apprehensive,  and 
at  times  hurries  him  into  acts  his  better  judgment  could  not 
approve. 

11  is  pupils  being  now  sufficiently  advanced,  Haydon  obtained 
leave,  and  sent  them  to  the  British  Museum  to  make  cartoons 
of  the  Elgin  Marbles.  They  succeeded  in  making  such  line 
cartoons  of  the  Theseus,  Ilissus,  and  the  Fates,  he  resolved  to 
try  the  effect  of  their  public  exhibition  the  next  year. 

Ihe  exhibition  of  these  cartoons  in  1818  proved  an  ex- 
traordinary success.     St.  James's  Street  was  crowded  with 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


107 


carriages  from  morning  till  sunset.  Foreign  ambassadors, 
dukes  and  duchesses,  all  the  fine  ladies,  Royalty  even,  and  the 
million  crushed  in  to  see  this  wonderful  "Exhibition  of  Car- 
toons" by  young  Englishmen.  A  caricature  of  "St.  James's 
Street  in  an  uproar"  filled  the  shop  windows,  and  increased 
the  madness.*  To  add  to  the  excitement,  the  art  critics,  who 
made  a  profitable  business  out  of  writing  Haydon  down, 
attacked  the  whole  scheme  vigorously.  But  the  effect  was 
rather  to  show  that  the  success  a  man  has  in  turning  the 
attention  of  the  public  to  the  text  he  preaches  is  in  proportion 
to  the  abuse  he  receives  from  the  doctrinaires  and  dunces. 
The  offence  of  Haydon  was  that,  he  tried  to  bring  the  public 
mind  into  contact  with  a  nobler  art  than  these  men  understood. 
But  "society,"  which  had  no  more  feeling  for  art  than  Newton's 
dog  had  for  his  master's  problems,  was  really  dissuaded  from 
supporting  the  attempt.  They  came  to  the  exhibition,  it  is 
true,  but  that  was  for  the  sake  of  novelty  and  amusement, 
possibly  to  see  what  it  was  which  was  so  abused  and  caricatured, 
not  for  the  art,  or  the  object  of  the  artist.  Haydon  flattered 
himself  and  his  pride  in  the  ar  stocracy,  that  the  great  people 
came  from  their  love  for  art,  and  praised  what  they  saw  from  a 
genuine  application  of  the  beauties  put  before  ihem.  He  was 
perpetually  making  this  mi  take,  viz.,  taking  the  polite  flat- 
teries of  visitors  for  real  feeling  and  approbation.  But  he 
lived  to  be  undeceived.  They  would  have  lavished  the  same 
praises  on  a  Hottentot  Venus,  or  a  disgusting  dwarf.  Eut 
there  was  one  Man,  as  Napoleon  called  him,  sitting,  afar 
off,  in  his  own  study,  who  t-aw  and  apprec'ated  Haydon's 
effort.  He  sent  for  the  ent  re  set  of  the  Hissus  cartoons. 
These  he  hung  up  around  his  own  room  at  We  mar,  and  we 
may  depend  on  it  never  passed  a  day  without  musing  among 
them.  Years  after,  just  before  his  own  death,  as  if  to  pay  a 
debt  of  gratitude  to  Haydon,  he  wrote,  reminding  him  of  these 
cartoons,  and  sa  d,  "  My  soul  has  been  elevated  for  many  years 
by  their  contemplation."  That  man  was  Goethe.  In  England 
it  was  flinging  a  gem  to  the  cock  in  iEsop's  fable ;  which  bird 
is  always  much  better  pleased  with  a  barleycorn. 

*  I  had  one  in  my  burned  portfolio.  It  was  coloured  after  the  style  of  Gillray's, 
showed  Haydon  in  a  blue  coat  ;md  broad  brimmed  hat,  something  like  a  Quaker 
in  colours  ;  surrounded  by  young  ducks  quacking  at  him,  and  the  whole  street  in 
an  uproar  of  footmen  and  carriages,  &c. — Ed. 


joS 


MEMOIR  OF 


About  this  time  (1818)  a  large  sum  of  money  being  voted 
(1,0()0,000Z.)  for  the  building  of  new  churches,  Haydon,  with 
the  sanction  of  the  Bishop  of  London,  took  up  the  matter 
in  the  interests  of  art,  and  wrote  an  excellent  treatise,  urging 
the  Government  to  put  by  one  per  cent,  for  the  purchase 
of  an  altar-piece  for  each  new  church.  Everybody  read 
and  praised  Haydon's  views,  and  said,  "What  an  excellent 
idea ! "  But  nobody  did  anything  to  help  him  to  carry  it 
out.  Canning  said  it  was  "  not  in  his  department."  Lord 
Stafford  said,  "You  will  never  get  the  House  to  agree  to 
that."  Sir  Charles  Long  said  he  "  gave  it  up  without  trying, 
as  there  was  nothing  of  which  public  men  knew  so  little  as 
art."  And  Mr.  Van  ittart,  the  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer, 
said,  "  Let  us  build  the  churches  first,  and  then  think  of  deco- 
rating them  !  " 

This  last  idea  was  too  brilliant  and  conclusive  for  Haydon. 
He  returned  to  his  painting-room  a  sadder,  but,  I  fear,  not  a 
wiser  man.  The  churches  were  built  ;  their  altar-pieces  are 
not  yet  designed. 

During  these  years  Haydon  discovered  it  was  necessary, 
if  he  wished  to  be  on  the  watch  in  the  interests  of  his  art,  to  go 
more  into  society,  and  he  went.  But  he  far  preferred  the  easier 
society  of  his  own  literary  and  professional  friends.  "With  these 
he  lived  in  constant  intercourse.  He  was  ever  a  staunch  friend, 
and  more  than  one  of  them  had  known  with  w  hat  unbounded 
generosity,  considering  his  means,  he  would  exert  himself  on 
behalf  of  others  in  embarrassment  or  distress.*  To  most  of 
them,  however,  his  position  seemed  firm  and  established.  He 
had  made  it  for  himself,  and  the  great  picture  he  was  then 
painting,  "  Jerusalem,"  would  maintain  and  increase  his  repu- 
tation and  authority  on  art. 

But  with  all  this,  none,  I  believe,  knew  of  the  double 
mischief  gnawing  at  his  vitals.  Forty  per  cent,  and  want  of 
capital  to  meet  it,  sooner  or  later  this  must  bring  a  man  to  the 
ground.    Now  was  the  time  to  have  repented  having  parted 

*  In  his  Journal  for  March,  1817,  I  find  the  following  affectionate  reference  to 
Keats:  "Keats  has  published  his  first  poems,  and  great  things  indeed  they 
promise.  .  .  .  Keats  is  a  man  after  my  own  heart.  He  sympathies  with  me,  and 
comprehends  me.  We  saw  through  eacli  other  at  once,  and  I  hope  are  friends 
for  ever.  I  only  know  that,  if  I  sell  my  picture,  Keats  shall  never  want  till 
another  is  done,  that  he  may  have  leisure  for  his  effusions;  in  short,  he  shall 
never  want  all  his  life  while  I  live." — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


ICQ 


with  his  birthright.  Now  was  the  time  when  the  great  businers 
of  his  father  would  have  supported  him  firmly,  if  he  had  only 
supported  it.  But  it  was  gone,  lost  past  redemption,  and 
had  left  him  literally  without  one  sixpence  he  could  call  his 
own.  It  was  a  pity  the  fate  of  so  fine  a  position,  won  by  such 
energy  and  skill,  and  retained  by  such  activity  and  toil, 
should  yet  hang  upon  the  decision  of  a  six-and-eightpenny 
attorney ! 

I  do  not  know  that  the  matter  weighed  on  Haydun's  mind. 
Anyhow  he  never  dared  to  look  it  fairly  in  the  face.  He 
trusted  in  Cod,  and  did  his  best  to  extricate  himself. 

Among  his  intimate  friends  at  this  period  of  his  life,  there 
is  a  striking  absence  of  lords  and  rich  men.  He  had  tried 
them  and  found  them  wanting,  and  although  he  still  went 
among  them,  it  is  evident  with  all  his  love  for  the  aristocracy 
that  he  prefers  the  society  of  men  with  brains  to  men  of  mere 
rank  or  wealth. 

Horace  Smith,  Wordsworth,  Walter  Scott,  Keats,  Hazlitt, 
Barnes  (of  the  'Times'),  Charles  Lamb,  Wilkie,  Coleridge,  the 
Hunts,  Ritchie  (the  African  traveller),  Du  Bois,  and  Ugo 
Foscolo,  were,  more  or  less,  his  intimates  ;  with  most  of  these  he 
lived  on  familiar  terms.  Often  they  would  meet  at  one  another's 
houses,  and  romp  like  schoolboys,  tell  inexhaustible  stories, 
and  always  laugh  at  each  other's  jokes.  But  their  interest  in 
art,  in  literature,  in  politics  and  religion,  was  anything  but 
boyish.  They  discussed  their  favourite  subjects,  debated  over 
classics,  fought  r^apoleon's  campaigns  with  the  fierceness  of 
partisans  —  Hazlitt  always  supporting  Napoleon,  Haydon 
always  against  him,  and  in  favour  of  the  Duke — very  often,  it 
seems,  breaking  up  their  evenings  in  a  violent  heat,  to  forget 
their  differences,  or  meet  and  renew  them  on  the  next  occasion. 
Hazlitt  said  Haydon  was  one  of  the  best  talkers  he  knew.  "  I 
find  him,"  he  said  to  Bewick,  "  albeit  the  best  painter  in 
England,  well  read  up  in  the  literature  of  the  day.  and  never 
at  a  loss  for  subjects  of  conversation,  whether  of  books,  politics, 
men,  or  things.  He  talks  well,  too,  on  most  subjects  that 
interest  one;  indeed,  better  than  any  painter  I  ever  met. 
Northcote  is  talkative  and  original,  but  he  is  narrow  in  his 
views,  and  confined  in  his  subjects.  Haydon  is  more  a  scholar, 
and  has  a  wider  range  and  versatility  of  information.  One 
enjoys  his  hearty  joyous  laugh  ;  it  sets  one  upon  one's  legs  as 


I  IO 


MEMOIR  OF 


it  were  better  than  a  glass  of  champagne,  for  one  is  delighted 
to  meet  such  a  cheery  spirit  in  the  saddening  depression  that 
broo  Is  over  the  hypocrisy  and  despotism  of  the  world.  His 
laugh  rings  in  my  ears  like  merry  bells."  This  describes  him 
at  the  time  fairly.  Talfourd,  Miss  Mitford,  and  Wordsworth 
have  all  expressed  to  me  a  similar  opinion,  and  I  believe  most 
of  those  who  remember  him  would  confirm  it.  His  talk  was  so 
rapid,  so  enthusiastic,  and  without  being  brilliant,  so  full  of 
anecdote  and  illustration,  and  so  earnest,  it  completely  carried 
you  away.  Wordsworth  said,  the  last  time  I  saw  him,  at  Christ- 
mas Lv48,  "  your  father  was  a  fine,  frank,  generous  nature,  a 
capital  talker,  and  well-informed."  And  as  to  his  art,  he  said, 
"  He  is  the  first  painter  in  his  grand  style  of  art  that  England 
or  any  other  country  has  produced  since  the  days  of  Titian. 
He  may  be  disregarded  and  scorned  now  by  the  ignorant  and 
malevolent,  but  posterity  will  do  him  justice.  There  are 
things  in  his  works  that  have  never  been  surpassed,  they 
will  be  the  text  book  of  art  hereafter."  This  was  high  praise 
from  Wordsworth,  but  Wordsworth  knew  what  he  was  talking 
about,  and  he  was  too  honest  not  to  be  sincere.  Haydon  had, 
of  course,  many  personal  anecdotes  of  his  friends,  and  has 
recorded  some  ;  but  he  had  such  a  keen  sense  of  the  ridiculous, 
it  would  not  be  fair  to  repeat  them.  Of  Hazlitt,  whose  eccen- 
tricities offered  so  much  opportunity  for  light  laughter,  he  had 
innumerable  stories.  Wordsworth  added  to  the  stock  by  one  (of 
Hazlitt's  evening  amusements  at  the  lakes,)  which  combined 
such  an  union  of  the  fiendish,  the  ludicrous,  and  the  sublime 
as  not  to  be  surpassed  by  any  story  ever  told  of  Hazlitt.  Of 
Coleridge,  I  have  heard  him  say  that  he  did  not  always  talk, 
but  would  sometimes  sit  silent,  apparently  taking  no  notice  of 
the  conversation,  when  suddenly,  like  the  "locutus  bos"  of 
Livy,  he  would  come  out  with  something  so  prodigiously  wise 
everybody  became  silent,  and  then  he  would  pour  forth  for  an 
hour,  as  the  humour  took  him.  The  story  of  Lamb,  on  his 
way  to  the  India  House,  leaving  Coleridge  at  10  a.m.  in  a 
doorway  talking  with  his  eyes  shut,  and  coining  back  at  4  p.m. 
to  find  Coleridge  still  there  with  his  eyes  shut,  talking  away, 
as  he  thought,  to  Lamb,  I  have  heard  my  father  declare,  though 
only  on  Lamb's  authority,  to  be  strictly  true;  but  then  Lamb 
delighted  in  such  fictions  about  his  friends.  Byron  he  never 
met.     They  were  to  have  met,  but  something  prevented 


Maim  Foote. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


I  !  I 


Byron  from  coming,  and  the  opportunity  never  occurred  again  ; 
Haydon  regretted  it  all  his  life.  Shelley  he  met  occasionally. 
His  account  of  their  first  meeting,  in  1816,  is  characteristic; 
it  was  at  a  dinner — one  of  the  last  he  went  to  at  Leigh 
Hunt's.  Haydon  arrived  late  and  took  his  place  at  the  table. 
Opposite  to  him  sat  a  hectic,  spare,  intellectual-looking  crea- 
ture, carving  a  bit  of  brocoh  on  his  plate  as  if  it  were  the 
substantial  wing  of  a  chicken.  This  was  Shelley.  Suddenly, 
in  the  most  feminine  and  gentle  voice,  Shelley  said,  "  As  to 
that  detestable  religion,  the  Christian — "  Haydon  looked  up. 
But  says  he  in  his  diary,  "  On  casting  a  glance  round  the  table, 
I  easily  saw  by  Leigh  Hunt's  expression  of  ecstasy  and  the 
simper  of  the  women,  I  was  t^  be  set  at  that  evening  '  vi  et 
armis.'  I  felt  exactly  like  a  stag  at  bay,  and  I  resolved  to 
gore  without  mercy."  The  result  was  a  heated  and  passionate 
argument,  and  the  resolution  on  the  part  of  Haydon  to  subject 
himself  no  more  to  the  chance  of  these  discussions.  And  thus 
it  was,  to  some  extent,  he  gradually  broke  off  his  intimacy 
with  Leigh  Hunt.  Warmly  attached  as  he  was  to  all  his 
friends,  this  resolution  gave  Haydon  certain  pain.  But  the 
offensively  condescending  and  patronising  tone,  which,  under 
the  plea  of  impartiality  and  fair  judgment,  Hunt  would  insist 
upon  assuming  when  speaking  of  our  Lord  and  His  Apostles, 
looking  down  upon  them,  as  it  were,  from  the  point  of  view  of 
a  very  superior  person,  irritated  and  shocked  Haydon  to  a 
degree  that  was  unendurable.  It  was  altogether  inconsistent, 
in  his  view,  with  thu  relations  of  man  to  his  God.  He  pro- 
tested warmly  against  it,  but  being  persisted  in  by  Hunt  with 
all  the  light  genia'ity  of  his  audacious  romaneings  over  the 
Biblical  conception  of  the  Almighty,  their  intimacy  was  dis- 
solved. Later  on,  Haydon  found  in  Talfourd  as  faithful  and 
fearless  a  friend  ;  he  was  also  a  more  judicious  adviser. 

Among  the  gentler  sex  Haydon  had  many  and  sincere 
friends  and  admirers;  Miss  Mitford  was  among  the  oldest 
and  warmest.  With  two  very  opposite  characters,  Maria 
Foote  and  Miss  Mellon,  afterwards  Duchess  of  St.  Albans, 
he  was  always  a  great  favourite.  Of  Holly  Lodge  he  had 
many  lively  stories.  And  as  Maria  Foote  was  just  at  this 
time  delighting  the  town,  Haydon,  who  used  to  escort  her 
to  and  from  the  theatre,  saw  a  good  deal  of  life  behind  the 
Bcenes,  but  he  soon  tired  of  that.     He  sympathised  with 


I  12 


MEMOIR  OF 


Johnson  when  he  said  to  Garrick,  in  excuse  for  not  again 
coming  behind  "  Old  Drury,"  "  Oh,  Davy,  Davy,  the  silk 
stockings  and  the  white  bosoms  of  your  actresses  excited 
my  amorous  propensities ! "  It  is  so  with  all  studious  men. 
The  sandals  of  Aspasia  turned  the  heads  of  the  Greek  philoso- 
phers. They  come  out  from  their  studies  into  the  world,  and 
are  first  astonished  at  the  vivacity  of  their  own  emotions,  and 
then  shocked  that  no  one  else  seems  to  share  them ;  a  little 
practice  renders  them  equally  insensible.  But  Haydon  was 
one  of  those  men  who  found  love  in  any  form  a  serious  affair; 
he,  therefore,  preferred  a  "  fatiguing  virtue  to  a  convenient 
vice."  The  former  fitted  into  his  habits  of  thought  and  reflec- 
tion, troubled  him  least,  and  did  not  disturb  his  principles  or 
shake  the  peace  of  his  mind.  "  Non  ita  difficile  est  quam 
captum  retibus  ipsis  exire  et  validos  Veneris  perrumpere 
nodos."  Tossibly  he  was  so  much  liked  by  the  sex  on  account 
of  this  earnestness,  and  he  was  evidently  much  run  after  on 
account  of  his  good  looks  and  reputation.  How  it  was  he  was 
not  married  much  earlier  in  life  it  is  difficult  to  say,  under 
all  the  circumstances  that  have  come  to  my  knowledge ; 
but  he  was  a  striking  example  that  the  common  belief  a 
clever  woman  can  marry  any  man  she  likes,  is  not  always 
true.  In  love  it  is  sometimes  only  one  of  the  two  that 
loves.  We  as  often  see  clever  and  fascinating  women,  trying 
to  attract  the  man  they  prefer,  succeeding  no  further  than  to 
make  him  think  of  the  love  they  feel,  or  fancy  they  feel, 
or  wish  they  felt.  He  encourages  them  because  it  is  agree- 
able, ,and  they  continue  to  try  for  the  same  reason.  The  illu- 
sions of  love  are  always  delightful.  At  length  she  notices  a 
change  in  his  manner — he  is  more  apt,  more  spirited  by  her 
side.  She  anticipates  her  triumph,  she  sees  him  already  at 
her  feet,  when — presto!  — one  fine  morning  she  learns,  to  her 
exquisite  mortification,  that  he  has  married  the  woman  who 
makes  him  feel  what  she  has  only  disposed  him  to.  This  was 
Haydon's  fate.  The  explanation  in  his  case  was,  I  think,  that 
there  are  many  qualities,  in  both  men  and  women,  which 
although  quite  endurable  in  a  friend,  would  be  simply  intoler- 
able in  a  husband  or  a  wife.  He  had  the  sagacity  and  good 
fortune  to  find  this  out  in  time. 

By  the  early  spring  of  1820,  the  '  Jerusalem  '  was  at  length 
completely  finished.    It  was  moved  down  safely  to  the  Egyptian 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


113 


Hall,  Piccadilly — the  frame  alone  weighed  600  lbs. — put  up 
without  accident,  pitched  into  its  place,  glazed,  and  toned  ;  and 
towards  the  end  of  March  the  exhibition  was  ready.  The 
private  day  was  crowded ;  dukes  and  duchesses,  court  beauties, 
distinguished  foreigners,  connoisseurs,  and  dilettanti.  The 
great  doubt  of  Haydon  was  the  head  of  our  Saviour.  He  had 
departed  from  the  traditional  type,  and  in  his  anxiety  and  dis- 
satisfaction at  not  at  first  realizing  his  conception,  had  painted 
the  head  in  and  out  six  times.  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  in  a  similar 
difficulty,  left  his  Christ  headless.  Haydon  says  that  the 
moment  the  picture  was  up,  and  he  could  walk  back  40  feet 
to  look  at  it,  he  felt  he  had  not  reached  his  true  conception. 
Very  possibly  :  the  power  of  will  to  execute  is  often  exhausted 
by  intense  previous  thought.  The  great  world,  having  no 
opinion  of  its  own,  but  talking  of  our  Saviour  as  if  they  had 
known  Him  intimately,  whispered,  "  This  is  not  like  Christ, ' 
and  then  waited  for  some  authority  to  praise  or  condemn,  it 
made  little  difference  to  them.  Suddenly,  Haydon  relates, 
Mrs.  Siddons  walked  into  the  room  "like  a  Ceres  or  a  Juno." 
She  went  straight  to  the  picture  and  stood  before  it,  silent  and 
thinking.  All  held  their  breath  for  the  awful  oracle.  At 
length  Sir  George  Beaumont,  in  a  timid  voice,  said,  "  How 
do  you  like  the  Christ  ? "  After  a  moment,  in  a  loud,  tragic 
tone,  she  replied,  "  It  is  completely  successful."  Society,  put 
at  their  ease,  at  once  pronounced  it  the  finest  head  ever  painted 
of  our  Lord.  They  would  have  condemned  it  with  equal  grace, 
and  facility.  The  great  actress  turned  to  Haydon  and  said, 
"  1  he  paleness  of  your  Christ  gives  it  a  supernatural  look." 
This  settled  its  success.  "  Its  supernatural  look  "  was  hence- 
forth in  everybody's  mouth.  There  is  great  virtue  in  the  selec- 
tion of  terms  ;  many  a  man's  fortune  has  been  made  by  a  happy 
phrase.  By  Monday  the  reputation  of  the  picture  had  spread 
over  London,  and  the  people  crowded  in  to  see  the  great 
work  with  a  "supernatural  look."  Before  the  season  closed, 
upwards  of  30,01)0  persons  had  come  to  see  the  picture,  and  saw, 
in  an  instant,  what  had  cost  years  of  thought  and  toil.  I  have 
never  seen  it,  and  it  was  not  engraved ;  bat,  from  the  original 
sketch  I  have  seen,  it  must  have  been  a  marvellously  fine  work. 
Wordsworth  told  me  it  was  "a  masterpiece  of  conception, 
colour,  character,  and  expression."  He  admitted  the  wonderful 
force  of  expression  in  the  wicked  mother  in  '  Solomon,'  and  the 

VOL.  I.  I 


"4 


MEMOIR  OF 


appalling;  look  of  '  Lazarus ;'  but,  he  said,  the  air  of  pathetic 
submissiveness  of  the  Penitent  Girl  in  the  'Jerusalem'  touched 
him  "  more  tenderly."  Now  came  the  question,  what  was  to 
be  done  with  such  a  work  ?  The  ministers  admired  it,  but 
"  what  can  we  do  with  it  ?"  they  asked,  "  and  where  are  we 
to  get  the  money  from?"  Haydon  wanted  2000?.  for  it.  1  he 
Church  looked  at  it  approvingdy,  but  did  not  dare,  and  was 
too  poor  to  buy  for  itself.  Watson  Taylor  was  urged  to  buy 
it  and  present  it  to  a  church,  and  it  would  have  been  a 
more  creditable  extravagance  than  his  silver  fire-irons  and 
similar  follies.  But  he  had  subscribed  300?.  towards  its  paint- 
ing, and  he  thought  his  duty  done.  The  next  day  he  very 
probably  allowed  himself  to  be  wheedled  out  of  5001'?.  worth 
of  diamonds  by  some  flatterer.*  Sir  George  Beaumont  urged 
the  directors  of  the  British  Gallery  to  make  the  purchase. 
He  said  "  You  have  advertised  and  asked  for  such  works : 
here  is  the  finest  ever  painted  by  an  Englishman ;  let  us  buy 
it  and  do  honour  to  the  art  and  the  artist."  And  the  directors 
would  have  done  so,  but  one  man  sat  at  their  board  who  was  all- 
powerful,  and  that  was  Mr.  Payne  Knight.  Every  dog  has  his 
day,  little  and  big,  and  Mr.  Payne  Knight,  as  we  have  seen, 
did  not  let  grass  grow  under  his  feet  when  an  injury  or  a  mor- 
tification was  to  be  inflicted  on  the  young  painter.  There  is 
no  venom  like  the  venom  of  an  old  man  against  a  young  one 
when  fairly  aroused.  Mr.  Payne  Knight  argued  that  Haydon, 
from  the  first,  had  set  himself  to  oppose  the  authorities,  and 
whatever  merits  the  picture  might  have,  and  he  did  not  see 
many  for  his  part,  the  fact  of  its  being  exhibited  in  this 
independent  manner  was  an  act  of  rebellion.  Taking  in  con- 
nection with  his  famous  "  Three  Letters,"  his  forming  a  school 
of  pupils,  his  exhibitions  of  their  cartoons,  and  his  whole  con- 
duct from  the  first,  it  could  not  be  denied  that  he  was  acting 
in  opposition  to  the  established  authorities  in  art,  and  he  ought 
to  be  made  to  feel  his  dependence  upon  them.  These  argu- 
ments carried  a  majority,  and  the  proposal  to  purchase  was 
finally  rejected  by  one.  The  noble  directors,  in  their  love  for 
high  art,  somewhat  resembled  Kousseau,  who,  laying  clown 
rules  for  the  nurture  and  education  of  children,  suffered  his 
own  offspring  to  be  brought  up  at  a  foundling  hospital. 

*  See  'Gilbert  Guriioy,'  by  Theodore  Hook. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


This  decision  of  the  directors  showed  the  want  of  a  higher 
power.  Here  was  a  picture  the  public  approved,  and  would 
have  been  glad  to  possess,  lost  to  the  nation  and  to  the  country 
by  the  weakness  of  men  influenced  by  the  vindictive  personal 
resentment  of  one  man,  and  that  man  notoriously  of  false 
taste  in  art.  The  picture  was  thrown  back  on  Haydon's 
hands,  and  thus  secured  Haydon's  ruin  a  few  years  later.* 
Lord  Ashburnham  was  so  mortified  at  the  rejection  of  the 
picture  by  the  directors,  that  he  sent  for  Haydon,  and,  begging 
him  "  not  to  be  discouraged,"  said,  "  I  cannot  buy  it  myself, 
but  if  you  will  allow  me  to  present  you  with  10J7.  as  a  slight 
expression  of  my  admiration  of  your  beautiful  picture,  you  will 
do  me  a  favour :"  and,  taking  Haydon's  hand  in  both  of  his, 
left  100Z.  within  it.  This  was  thoughtful  and  kind  of  Lord 
Ashburnham,  but  not  the  way  Haydon  should  have  been  re- 
warded. The  best  reward  for  having  wrought  so  well  would 
have  been  to  give  him  more  work  to  do.  This  was  what 
Haydon  entreated.    But  it  was  ever  denied,  or  not  understood. 

At  the  close  of  the  London  season  he  rolled  up  and  sent  his 
picture  off  by  sea  to  Edinburgh  and  Glasgow,  and  exhibited  it 
at  both  places  with  great  success.  Lock  hart  and  Wilson,  Terry 
and  Sir  Walter  Scott,  who  had  confounded  Haydon's  personal 
friendship  for  Leigh  Hunt  with  a  political  and  religious  alliance, 
and  had  more  than  once  violently  attacked  Haydon  as  one  of 
the  Cockney  school  of  radicals  and  sceptics,  were  astonished  to 
find  him  a  high  tory  and  aristocrat,  and  a  sound  Christian ;  and 
something  more,  a  very  well  read  man  and  a  good  painter. 
They  changed  their  tone  from  that  day.  The  moment  they 
changed  their  tone  and  spoke  of  Haydon  as  they  found  him, 
that  part  of  the  press  which  is  supposed  to  be  liberal  turned 
right  round,  abused  Haydon  heartily,  and  for  ever  after  re- 
presented him  as  they  did  not  find  him.  Such  is  the  effect  of 
party  feeling. 

Lockhart  spoke  out  manfully  about  the  '  Jerusalem.'  "  It  is 
probable,"  he  says  ('  Blackwood,'  1820  f), "  that  the  absurd  style 

*  It  was  bought  by  two  American  gentlemen  after  Haydon's  sale  in  1823,  and 
s<nt  to  the  Public  Giillery  at  Philadelphia,  where  it  still  remains. — Ed.  ' 

t  Haydon  used  to  tell  a  highland  story  of  the  Glasgow  Exhibition.  A  year 
or  two  alter,  a  friend  sketching  in  the  Highlands  was  overlooked  by  a  lassie. 
After  a  while  she  said,  "  Air  ye  fond  of  pectins?"  "  Yes,"  said  he.  "  And  did 
yo  see  a  pectur  at  Glasgaw  o'  'Christ  comin'  to  Jurrooslem  ? '  "  I  did,"  said 
he.  "Ah!"  said  she,  with  wild  enthusiasm,  "  yon  was  a  pectur.  When  I  sa' 
a'  the  lads  and  lasses  wi'  their  hats  ofi',  I  jest  sat  uie  doon  an'  grat." — Ed. 

I  2 


n6 


MEMOIR  OF 


of  language  in  which  this  picture  has  been  lauded  by  the 
critics  of  Cockayne  may  have  inspired  many  of  our  readers,  as 
we  confess  it  had  ourselves,  with  many  doubts  and  suspicions; 
but  in  order  to  do  away  with  these,  we  are  quite  sure  nothing 
more  can  be  necessary  than  a  single  glance  at  this  wonderful 
performance  itself.  ...  It  is  quite  evident  that  Mr.  Haydon 
is  already  by  far  the  greatest  historical  painter  that  England 
has  as  yet  produced.  In  time,  those  that  have  observed  this 
masterpiece  can  have  no  doubt,  he  may  take  his  place  by  the 
side  of  the  very  greatest  painters  in  Italy." 

This  I  believe  to  fairly  express  the  general  feeling  at  the 
time  among  competent  judges,  not  only  in  Scotland  but  in 
England,  and  yet  it  is  a  fact  that  the  nobility  and  patrons 
never  offered  or  gave  Haydon  one  single  commission  of  any 
kind  at  this  time.  I  have  searched  his  correspondence  care- 
fully, and,  with  the  exception  of  a  note  from  Mr.  T.  Hope, 
drily  refusing  an  offer  from  Haydon  now  to  paint  him  a  small 
picture,  as  he,  Mr.  Hope,  had  made  "  other  arrangements,"  and 
one  from  Mr.  Watson  Taylor,  also  declining  to  allow  Haydon 
to  paint  a  picture  for  him  for  the  300?.  Mr.  Taylor  had  ad- 
vanced, and  the  long  standing  commission  (three-quarter  size) 
from  Sir  George  Phillips,  live  hundred  guineas,  which  Haydon 
painted,  and  the  one  from  Sir  John  Leycester,  for  sixty 
guineas,  which,  with  Sir  John's  permission,  he  had  made  over 
to  Bewick  on  account  of  his  own  weak  sight,  there  is  not  a 
trace  of  eaiployment  of  any  kind  being  offered,  or  conferred. 
The  public  had  done  what  they  could  ;  they  had  come  in 
crowds  to  see  the  picture,  and  paid  for  seeing  it ;  they  had  no 
organization  or  individual  means  to  do  more ;  that  was  rightly 
left  to  the  great  nobles  and  rich  patrons,  and  they  did  nothing. 
This  would  be  very  remarkable  if  Poetry  and  Music  did  not 
share  the  distinction  of  being  considered,  by  the  majority  of 
our  nobles  and  rich  men,  as  relatively  of  no  importance  to  the 
greatness  of  England  as  a  nation.  Professors  of  the  fine  arts, 
let  them  deny  and  struggle  against  it  as  they  may,  are  yet 
regarded,  in  England,  as  inferior  men  of  no  rank,  or  real 
worth.  The  successful  blackleg  with  his  house  in  Berkeley 
Square,  and  a  hunting-box  at  Melton,  is,  in  the  opinion  of 
certain  classes,  a  better  member  of  society,  and  a  more  agree- 
able companion.  They  will  send  him  to  Parliament,  drink 
his  claret,  and  fawn  upon  him  for  his  '  good  things  "  at  New- 


B  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


117 


market  and  Doncaster,  and  as  he  only  appeals  to  the  worst 
passions  of  mankind,  there  can  be  no  doubt  about  the 
superiority  of  his  claims.  Low  tastes  and  want  of  high  culture 
bring  a  nobility  down  to  these  levels.  The  understanding  that 
nothing  shall  be  deemed  aristocratic  that  is  not  habitually  done 
by  the  aristocracy  is  the  probable  explanation.  This  meets 
the  case  of  Haydon,  and  beyond  that  I  am  not  disposed  to  seek 
a  deeper  explanation  of  conduct,  which,  on  the  face  of  it, 
appears  so  indefensible  and  wrong.* 

Haydon  returned  from  Scotland  late  in  the  autumn,  carrying 
away  with  him,  he  says,  "  a  very  complete  conception  of 
Scotch  hospitality."  Sir  Walter  Scott,  Wilson,  Lockhart, 
Jeffrey,  Allan,  Eaeburn  ("  that  glorious  fellow  ")  had  all  wel- 
comed him  warmly,  though  Sir  Walter  was  the  only  one  who 
knew  him  before.  "  Princes  Street,"  he  writes,  "  on  a  clear 
sunset,  with  the  castle  and  the  Pentland  Hills  in  radiant  glory, 
and  the  crowd  illumined  by  the  setting  sun,  was  a  sight 
perfectly  original.  First  you  would  see,  limping,  Sir  Walter, 
talking  as  he  walked  with  Lord  Meadowbank  ;  then  tripped 
Jeffrey,  keen,  restless  and  fidgety ;  you  next  met  Wilson,  or 
Lockhart,  or  Allan,  or  Thompson,  or  Eaeburn,  as  if  all  had 
agreed  to  make  their  appearance  at  once.  It  was  a  striking 
scene." 

The  exhibition  of  'Jerusalem'  in  Scotland  had  been  a 
remarkable  success.  Upwards  of  20,000  more  persons,  thus 
making  5U,000  in  all,  had  come  to  see  the  picture — an  as- 
tonishing number  if  we  remember  that  in  those  days  there 
were  no  railroads,  and  the  means  of  locomotion  few,  far 
between,  and  exj:>ensive.  But,  if  t  le  pecuniary  success  of  the 
exhibition  was  great  it  was  not  wholly  sufficient.  It  materially 
reduced  Haydon's  indebtedness,  that  is  true,  but  sixty  per  cent, 
requires  a  wide  mai'gin ;  the  result  was,  he  was  still  without  a 
reserve.  Had  the  picture  been  sold,  all  would  have  been  well; 
Mr.  Payne  Knight  had,  however,  effectually  prevented  that. 
Other  schemes  were  then  tried.    A  public  subscription  to 

*  Yet,  in  Haydon's  ease,  there  is  one  element  always  present  and  not  to  be 
forgotten,  viz.,  the  persistent  hostility  of  the  Royal  Academy.  Iain  not  speaking 
of  individual,  but  of  corporate  action.  At  first  I  thought  this  complaint  >>f 
Haydon  illusive,  but  I  am  reluctantly  compelled  to  believe  that  the  vindictive 
feelmg  of  the  Academy  against  Haydon  had  no  small  influence  upon  the  nobility 
and  his  fortunes.  "They  spoke  against  him  with  false  tongues,  they  compassed 
him  about  with  words  of  hatred,  and  fought  against  him  without  a  cause." — Ed. 


MEMOIR  OF 


purchase  the  picture  and  present  it  to  the  National  Gallery,  or 
to  a  church,  was  proposed.  But  the  arrangements  were  in- 
judicious, the  Government  refused  its  countenance,  and  both 
schemes  fell  through.  The  decision  of  the  directors  of  the 
British  Gallery,  as  Mr.  Payne  Knight  had  foreseen,  chilled 
everybody  but  Sir  George  Beaumont  and  a  few  devoted  lovers 
of  art.  Haydon,  who  was  a  very  practical  man  in  such 
matters,  sa\V  his  chance  was  gone,  and  set  about  something 
else.  He  had  a  little  money  to  go  on  with,  and  in  twenty-four 
hours  had  made  up  his  mind,  sale  or  no  sale,  to  paint  the  next 
of  his  scriptural  series.  The  very  risk  suited  his  adventurous 
spirit.  Besides,  it  gave  him  an  excuse  to  remain  in  England, 
in  the  vain  hope  of  producing  a  salutary  change  in  the  taste  of 
the  nobility,  and  in  the  disposition  of  the  Government. 

My  opinion  is,  he  shoidd  now  have  left  England  and  gone  to 
Home  or  St.  Petersburg,  taking  the  '  Jerusalem '  with  him. 
The  high  favour  of  the  Emperor  Nicolas,  or  the  friendship 
even  of  Canova  at  Kome,  could  not  have  failed  to  secure 
Haydon  both  reputation  and  wealth.  Though  he  cared  little 
enough  for  the  latter,  it  would  have  placed  him  in  a  position, 
wherein  his  genius  would  have  had  the  fullest  play.  When 
Canova  found  him  the  only  man  in  England  painting  history, 
and  that  on  his  own  responsibility,  and  in  a  room  you  could 
not  swing  a  cat  in,  he  must  have  thought  of  his  own  abundance 
of  commissions  and  wealth,  and  of  his  own  superb  palace  at 
Borne,  as  he  pressed  Haydon  warmly  by  the  hand,  and  said  to 
him,  in  a  tone  there  was  no  mistaking  the  meaning  of,  "  Yenez, 
venez  a  Rome !  vous  y  verrez  la  veritable  democratie  de 
l'art !"  by  which,  says  Eastlake,  he  meaned  "an  'aristocracy '  of 
artists"  that  was  of  a  better  kind  than  Haydon  had  to  deal 
with  in  England. 

Haydon  must  often  have  recalled  the  words  of  Canova,  and, 
for  his  own  reputation's  sake,  regretted  he  did  not  follow  their 
counsel. 

In  England,  however,  he  elected  to  remain,  with  many  mis- 
givings I  feel  sure.  For  it  was  but  a  forlorn  hope  at  the  best, 
and  his  reward  was  what  we  shall  see — even  the  patronage  of  a 
Duke  of  Mantua  would  have  been  preferable* 

The  '  Raising  of  Lazarus '  was  the  next  picture  of  his  series 

*  The  Duke  of  Mantua,  of  Rubens's  day,  could  find  no  better  employment  for 
Rubens  than  to  engage  hiui  to  make  copies  of  the  old  masters. — Ed. 


First  sketch/  for  dve  fiquue  of  Lazarus 

18  W 


n.  r.  haydon.  119 

Haydon  decided  to  paint.  He  ordered  a  canvas  19  feet  long 
by  15  feet  high,  and,  as  usual,  with  little  or  no  money  left, 
began  the  third  of  his  great  works  of  this  period. 

Sir  George  Beaumont,  with  whom  he  had  now  made  up  his 
differences — Sir  George  taking  the  '  Macbeth  '  for  two  hundred 
guineas— wrote  to  Haydon  a  letter  of  the  warmest  congratula- 
tions upon  his  success  with  the  exhibition,  at  least,  of  the 
'Jerusalem.'  But  he  adds  a  closing  paragraph  of  friendly 
warning,  which  appears  to  me  to  contain  an  allusion  to  Mr. 
Payne  Knight  and  his  recent  behaviour :  "  Paint  down  your 
enemies,"  says  Sir  George,  "  rather  than  attempt  to  write 
them  down,  which  will  only  multiply  them,  and  believe  me 
that  no  man  is  so  insignificant  as  not  to  stand  a  chance  of 
having  it  in  his  power  to  do  you  a  serious  injury  at  some  time 
or  other." 

Haydon  began  the  '  Raising  of  Lazarus '  in  December, 
1820 ;  with  one  break  in  May  1821,  when  he  was  unsettled  by 
the  difficulty  of  reconciling  the  mildness  of  character  of  our 
Lord  with  depth  of  thought,  the  form  that  gives  the  one  de- 
stroying the  other,  he  worked  at  this  picture  steadily  and  hard, 
and  by  the  7th  December,  1822,  had  completed  it.*  In 
October,  1821,  he  had  married  a  very  lovely  young  widow, 
to  whom  he  had  long  been  passionately  attached.  This, 

*  He  had  also  one  fit  of  real  idleness  in  May,  1821,  at  the  sale  of  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds's  pictures  at  Christie's.  It  was  at  this  sale  Haydon  advised  Sir  George 
Phillips  to  buy  the  'Piping  Shepherd'  for  400  guineas,  an  enormous  pike  in 
those  days.  Haydon  says  m  his  Journal  that  the  moment  it  was  found  out  he 
had  advised  it,  there  was  a  general  run  down  of  the  picture,  to  poor  Sir  George's 
great  dismay,  who  thought  that  he  had  made  a  foolish  purchase.  His  entry  in  h'3 
Journal  for  the  day  after  is  worth  quoting.  "  20th  May,  1821.— Went  again  to 
Reynolds's  sale.  I  found  the  400  guineas  of  yesterday  had  made  a  great  noise  in 
town,  and  Phillips  was  assailed  by  everybody  as  he  came  in.  .  .  .  In  the  midst 
of  the  sale,  up  squeezed  Ohantrey.  I  was  exceedingly  amused  ;  I  turned  round 
and  found  on  the  other  side,  Northcote.  I  began  to  think  something  was  in  the 
wind.  Phillips  asked  him  how  he  liked  the  '  Shepheid.'  At  first  Northcote  said 
he  didn't  recollect  it.  Then  he  said, 'Ah!  indeed.'  'Ah!  yes;  it  is  a  very 
poor  thing.  I  remember  it.'  Poor  Phillips  whispered  to  me,  '  You  see  people 
have  different  tastes.'  It  served  him  heartily  right,  and  I  was  very  glad  of  it. 
He  does  not  deserve  his  prize.  The  moment  these  people  heard  I  was  the  adviser 
they  began  to  undervalue  it.  I  knew  that  Norihcote's  coming  up  was  ominous. 
The  att>  mpts  of  this  little  fellow  to  mortify  others  arc  amusing,  he  exists  on  it. 
The  sparkling  delight  with  which  he  watches  a  face,  when  he  knows  something 
is  coming  that  will  change  its  expression,  is  beyond  everything.  As  soon  as  he 
had  said  what  he  thought  would  make  Phillips  unhappy  for  two  hours,  he  slunk 

Haydon  rates  this  picture  very  h;jrlily.  "  It  is  the  completest  bit  of  a  certain 
expression  in  the  world.  Eyes  and  hands,  motions  and  look,  all  seem  quivering 
with  the  remembrance  of  some  melodious  tone  of  his  flageolet.  The  colour  and 
pivservaiion  are  perfect.    It  is  a  work  I  could  dwell  on  for  ages." — Ed. 


I  20 


MEMOIR  OF 


perhaps,  may  have  helped  him  to  the  rapid  completion  of  his 
picture,  but  I  fear  that  pecuniary  pressure  upon  him  was  the 
real  explanation  of  the  rapidity  of  his  work.  For,  if  his  home 
was  now  extremely  happy,  and  his  health  excellent,  his  ex- 
ternal relations  with  the  world,  particularly  with  the  usurious 
part  of  it,  were  the  reverse  of  pleasant.  In  those  two  years 
Haydon  was  made  to  feel  many  of  the  worst  and  most  harass- 
ing humiliations  of  debt.  His  creditors  refused  to  believe 
that  he  had  not  realized  a  much  larger  sum  by  the  exhibition 
of  the  '  Jerusalem '  than  was  the  fact,  and  that  he  had  not 
married  a  fortune,  which  was  not  the  fact ;  and,  thus,  his  very 
successes  became  a  source  of  serious  embarrassment  to  him.  In 
this  dilemma  Haydon  conducted  his  affairs  with  his  usual 
activity  and  foresight.  I!ut  the  cry  of  an  enraged  creditor, 
inflamed  with  suspicion  and  cupidity,  was  not  pleasant  to  meet 
in  those  days  without  means.  Law  costs,  judgments,  writs, 
and  arrests  quickly  followed,  and  a  poor  man  was  given  no 
sufficient  time  from  the  claim  to  the  attachment  of  his  person 
to  clear  himself,  except  upon  the  most  exorbitant  terms.  And 
how  to  conceal  the  matter  from  his  wife !  This  was  the  first 
question  with  Haydon.  It  was  under  these  circumstances  he 
committed  that  offence  against  morality  which  has  been 
magnified  so  much  to  his  discredit.  In  a  moment  of  terrible 
pressure  which  threatened  exposxire  and  ruin,  he  asked  two 
of  his  elder  and  former  pupils,  both  young  men  whom  he  had 
started  in  life,  to  put  their  names  to  bills  of  some  25DZ.  and 
350/.  respectively,  for  an  extension  of  time.  Considering  that 
he  had  almost  fed  and  clothed  these  men  during  their  pupil- 
age, had,  I  find,  paid  the  rent  for  one,  instructed  them  both 
for  nothing,  and  set  them  both  on  their  professional  road,  I 
must  confess  I  am  not  so  much  struck  at  the  enormity  of  the 
offence.  I  had  very  much  rather  Haydon  had  not  clone  what 
he  did,  but,  having  done  it,  I  do  not  think  he  could  have  done 
it  under  circumstances  so  favourable  to  palliation.  It  was  a 
reprehensible  act,  and  Haydon  regretted  it  all  his  life,  because, 
by  the  time  he  was  imprisoned,  he  had  an  unpaid  balance  still 
on  each  bill,  which  these  lads  had  to  pay,  and  they  could  ill 
afford  it.  But  most  men,  at  some  time  or  other  of  their 
lives,  imagine  themselves  to  form  an  exception  to  the  ordinary 
rules  of  prudence  and  morality.  It  is  this  that  leads  men  to 
do  wrong  with  such  excellent  intentions.    Such,  however,  was 


First  Sketchet  for  Figure*  in  Lazarus,  1820-23. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


the  struggle  in  which  he  now  found  himself  engaged.  The 
ruin  he  had  long  foreseen  was  closing  in  more  rapidly  upon 
him  than  he  expected,  and  unless  some  extraordinary  piece 
of  good  fortune  favoured  him  he  would  be  crushed.  But, 
crushed  or  not,  he  must  finish  the  '  Lazarus.'  He  worked 
with  superhuman  energy ;  he  exerted  himself  beyond  the  limits 
of  ordinary  human  endurance  —  rising  early  to  work  at  his 
picture  till  office  hours  came,  then  rushing  hither  and  thither 
to  pacify  this  creditor,  quiet  the  fears  of  that,  remove  the 
jealousy  and  illwill  of  a  third,  borrowing  money  of  a  fourth 
and  fifth,  to  keep  his  engagements  with  the  attorney  of  a 
sixth ;  then  hastening  home  to  paint  in  a  "  wild  tremor ;"  to 
be  arrested  while  painting;  to  hasten  off  into  the  City  for 
release ;  to  fly  back  again  to  his  picture,  and  so  on  from  day 
to  day.    For  here  there  were — 

"  The  thousand  ills  that  rise  when  money  fails, 
Debts,  threats,  and  duns,  bills,  bailiffs,  writs,  and  jails." 

Where  now  were  all  the  dukes  and  earls  of  his  last  exhi- 
bition ?  Where  indeed !  Not  one  of  them  comes  forward  to 
assist  him.  Out  of  all  their  huge  incomes,  out  of  the  thou- 
sands they  squander  annually  upon  cards,  cooks,  prostitutes, 
blacklegs,  and  their  other  pleasures,  not  one  among  them 
could  find  it  in  his  heart  to  take  this  struggling  man  by  the 
hand,  and  with  the  gift  of  a  few  thousand  pounds  put  him  in  a 
position  of  security  for  life.  And  they  knew  well  his  position 
by  this  time.  Why,  the  utmost  the  whole  English  nobility, 
with  all  their  vast  wealth  and  possessions,  were  ever  known  to 
do  altogether  for  art,  for  literature,  and  for  science,  will  not 
amount  to  a  single  gift  of  one  noble  Roman  to  his  favourite  poet. 
Here  was  an  Englishman  eminently  learned  in  his  art,  who,  by 
the  sheer  force  and  vigour  of  his  intellect,  and  the  sweep  and 
mastery  of  his  industrious  and  inspired  hand,  had  put  himself 
at  the  head  of  the  historical  painters  of  Europe,  left  by  his 
nobility  to  beg  mercy  from  attorneys,  and  borrow  money  at 
usurious  interest  to  pay  for  his  models  and  materials  of  art ! 
The  fact  is  highly  characteristic.  It  exemplifies  in  a  remark- 
able degree  (and  we  shall  yet  see  it  still  further  exemplified) 
the  elaborate  neglect,  the  inability,  the  dread,  the  dislike,  the 
English  nobility  invariably  exhibit  towards  the  historic  art  of 
their  own  great  country,  which  renders  the  life  of  the  his- 


122 


MEMOIR  OF 


torical  painter  in  England  intolerable,  and  historic  art  an 
impossibility. 

As  I  read  Haydon's  private  Journal  at  this  period  of  his 
career,  I  am  astonished  he  did  not  go  raving  mad.  How  a 
man,  with  his  acute  sensibilities,  could  have  borne  such  violent 
shocks  of  mental  emotion,  and  yet  concentrate  his  mind  upon 
the  picture  before  him,  is  one  of  the  most  astonishing  facts  in 
mental  phenomena.  Read  the  account  Bewick,  his  old  pupil, 
gives  of  the  painting  of  the  head  of  Lazarus,  "  that  most 
appalling  conception  ever  realized  on  canvas,"  as  Sir  Walter 
described  it ;  and  think,  if  any  painter  of  your  acquaintance, 
living  or  dead,  could  have  done  what  Haydon  did  that 
morning. 

"  I  remember  well,"  writes  Bewick  (8th  November,  1853), 
"  that  I  was  seated  upon  a  box  placed  upon  a  chair,  upon  a 
table,  mounted  up  as  high  as  the  head  in  the  picture,  and  a 
very  tottering  insecure  seat  it  was,  and  painful,  to  be  pinned 
to  a  confined  spot  for  so  many  hours,  for  the  head,  two  hands, 
and  drapery  were  all  painted  at  once,  in  one  day,  and  never 
touched  afterwards,  but  left  as  struck  off,  and  any  one  looking 
close  to  the  painting  will  perceive  that  the  head  has  never 
been  even  '  softened,'  so  successful  and  impressive  it  appeared 
to  both  painter  and  model,  and  so  much  was  it  the  emanation 
of  a  wonderful  conception  executed  with  a  rapidity  and  pre- 
cision of  touch  truly  astonishing.  And  when  it  is  considered 
that  the  mind  of  the  painter  was  harassed  and  deeply  anxious 
by  the  circumstances  of  his  arrest  at  the  beginning  of  his  work, 
when  concentrating  his  thoughts  on  the  character  and  expres- 
sion to  be  represented,  any  one  at  all  acquainted  with  the 
difficulties  of  the  art  of  painting,  will  readily  concede  this 
portion  of  so  difficult  a  subject  to  be  a  feat  of  marvellous 
dexterity  and  power  in  the  art. 

"  I  think  I  see  the  painter  before  me,  his  palette  and 
brushes  in  his  left  hand,  returning  from  the  sheriff  s  officer  in 
the  adjoining  room,  pale,  calm,  and  serious — no  agitation — 
mounting  his  high  steps  and  continuing  his  arduous  task, 
and  as  he  looks  round  to  his  pallid  model,  half-breathingly 
whispering,  '  Egad  !  Bewick,  I  have  just  been  arrested;  that 
is  the  third  time ;  if  they  come  again,  I  shall  not  be  able  to 
go  on.'  " 

Can  anything  more  mournful  be  written  of  a  painter  ?  Surely 


First  Study  of  the  Oravedigger  in  Lazarus,  1820. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


1-3 


a  more  terrible  daily  life  his  worst  enemy  could  not  have  wished 
him.  Yet  Haydon  never  quailed,  never  denied  himself,  but 
faced  every  man,  and  found  even  sheriff's  officers  impressionable 
and  even  generous.  The  first  sheriff's  officer  who  arrested  him 
was  so  overcome  at  being  left  alone  with  this  awful  head  of 
Lazarus  staring  out  from  the  grave  clothes,  that  on  Haydon 
coming  in  he  refused  to  take  him  prisoner,  accepted  Haydon's 
word  to  meet  him  at  the  attorney's,  and  rushed  from  the 
painting-room.* 

What  was  the  secret  of  Haydon  keeping  his  health  and  his 
head  under  such  terrible  pressure,  I  cannot  exactly  say.  lie 
was  one  of  those  men  with  a  faith  and  an  enthusiasm  that  alone 
makes  life  worth  the  trouble  of  living,  and  he  was  one  of  those 
professional  men  of  such  a  purely  intellectual  temper  in  his 
art  that  nothing  ever  unsteadied  his  nerves.  He  never  knew 
when  at  work  what  it  was  to  doubt  or  regret.  Once  at  his 
picture  he  never  thought  of  himself  or  his  difficulties.  His 
mind  filled  with  his  subject  shut  out  all  else.  When  we  con- 
sider all  the  harassing  distractions  that  now  beset  him,  and 
take  into  account  the  time,  the  temper,  the  drudgery  of 
watching  over  this  creditor,  quieting  that,  and  providing  for 
current  liabilities,  and  then  look  at  the  picture  he  painted  in 
face  of  so  many,  and  such  dragweights,  one  is  lost  in  astonish- 
ment at  the  work  done,  at  the  variety  and  prodigality  which 
under  such  an  incubus  his  creative  power  displays.  It  must 
have  been  either  his  happy  possession  of  a  purely  intellectual 
temper  in  his  profession,  or  else  is  it  that  the  painter's  art  is  a 
distinct  faculty  of  the  soul,  and  has  no  more  to  do  with  the 
everyday  individual  of  domestic  life  than  has  his  divine 
ideal ? 

But  in  either  case  any  situation  more  insupportable  cannot 
easily  be  conceived  of  a  man  engaged  upon  such  a  divine  art, 
which  above  all  things  is  held  to  require  peace  of  mind  and 

*  This  lias  been  likened  by  a  '  Quarterly  Reviewer'  to  the  case  of  Parmegiano, 
when  the  soldiers  of  the  Constable  sacked  Home.  Breaking  into  I'arme^iano's 
room,  the  men  were  so  struck  by  the  beauty  of  his  pictures  they  protected  him. 
But  I  think  the  bailiff  has  the  advantage  here.  The  soldiers  irresponsible  and 
ilu-ln  d  with  success,  came  to  rob  and  revel,  and  could  well  afford  to  be  generous. 
The  bailiff  came  deliberately  to  make  le.'al  prisoner  of  the  painter,  and  was  bound 
not  to  lose  sight  of  h  in ;  yet,  he  is  so  struck  by  the  appalling  look  of  Lazarus, 
be  r.-fuses  to  take  the  painter  from  his  work,  aud  risks  the  responsibility  ot 
leaving  him  in  his  house.  This  seems  to  me  the  li.ier  insta.ice  of  the  two. 
—Ed. 


124 


MEMOIR  OF 


freedom  from  mean  miseries  and  tormenting  interruptions  for 
its  conception,  expression,  and  handling. 

At  length  the  picture  approached  completion.  The  head  of 
our  Saviour  he  left  to  the  last,  and  spoiled  it.  Yet  it  is  a  grand 
work,  and  despite  all  the  critics  have  said  against  it  for  "  this  " 
and  for  "that,"  and  the  obtrusive  vulgarity  of  Mary's  look 
of  astonishment,  at  which  my  gorge  always  rises,  it  would  be 
difficult  to  find  another  painting  of  the  same  subject  in 
European  art  of  equal  size  and  equal  merit.  In  the  splendour 
of  its  colour,  in  its  drawing  and  composition,  in  its  variety 
of  form  and  expression,  it  holds  its  place  as  a  work  of  art. 
In  the  fright,  the  grief,  the  movement  of  the  crowd,  contrasted 
with  the  absorbed  attitude  of  Christ,  the  evident  scepticism  ot 
some,  the  amazement,  the  curiosity  and  horror  of  others,  and 
in  the  appalling  look  of  the  consciousness  of  a  soul  brought 
back  to  life  from  death,  it  exceeds  any  picture  of  the  samo 
subject  I  have  ever  seen.  The  famous  '  Sebastian  del  Piombo,' 
even  with  the  help  of  Michel  Angelo,  looks  tame  and  insipid 
beside  it. 

The  exhibition  was  opened  on  the  1st  March,  1823,  and  all 
for  a  moment  seemed  to  go  rapidly  and  well.  It  was  the  lull  of 
the  tiger  before  his  spring.  Haydon,  as  if  conscious  of  impend- 
ing mischief,  but  confident  in  his  good  fortune  to  avert  it, 
shows  no  interest.  He  remains  at  home  deep  in  the  compo- 
sition of  his  fresh  picture  'The  Crucifixion.'  In  a  short  time 
all  London  was  crowding  to  the  exhibition ;  the  receipts  were 
mounting  up  to  200?.  a  week,  yet  he  takes  no  further  interest 
and  neglects  to  perform  a  very  obvious  duty,  that  of  calling 
his  creditors  together.  Nobody  knew  better,  if  this  were  not 
done  mischief  must  ensue.  It  is  not  the  great  debts  that 
trouble  a  man;  it  is  the  small  ones,  as  Dr.  Johnson  said, 
"  that  rattle  about  your  head  like  shot."  Yet  Haydon  did 
nothing.  His  chief  object  se  ms  to  have  been  to  conceal  the 
perilous  state  of  his  affairs  from  his  wife,  and  not  to  admit 
it  even  to  himself.  Every  daily  emergency  that  arose  he 
met  with  an  expedient.  With  all  his  courage,  which  was  un- 
questionable, I  doubt  if  he  had  that  rare  courage  of  looking 
his  liabilities  fairly  in  the  face;  in  my  experience  I  never 
kuew  but  one  man  who  had.  A  man  on  the  wrong  side  of  the 
balance  seldom  cares  to  have  his  banking-book  made  up.  It 
seenis  as  if  men  in  debt  become  so  long  accustomed  to  sup- 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


pression,  they  dislike  the  prospect  of  disclosure,  even  if  it 
brings  relief.  And  thus  it  was,  like  iEsops  doe,  Haydon  went 
on  his  own  way,  hoping  more  than  believing  himself  secure  by 
the  growing  success  of  his  exhibition,  but  taking  no  pains  to 
secure  that  security,  and  not  looking  out  for  unexpected 
stoims.  It  is,  I  admit,  difficult  for  "  neck  or  nothing  "  men,  in 
a  close  race  and  on  the  eve  of  apparent  success,  to  believe  in 
immediate  disaster.  They  talk  of  it,  they  even  look  upon  it  as 
a  contingency,  but  they  never  believe  in  it  till  everything  goes 
by  the  board. 

Haydon  went  on  with  his  design  for  the  '  Cru  ifixion,'  one 
of  the  grandest  designs,  to  judge  from  his  sketches,  ever  con- 
ceived by  his  fertile  brain,  and  he  left  the  '  Lazarus  '  exhibition 
to  take  care  of  itself.  Meantime  an  angry  and  impatient 
creditor  Haydon  had  quizzed  at  dinner,  and  had  not  called 
upon  as  he  had  promised  (he  had  staid  at  home,  rubbing  in 
the  '  Crucifixion  '),  came  over  to  the  exhibition.  The  sight 
of  the  crowds  of  people  and  the  heaps  of  shillings  pouring 
in  so  kindled  his  cupidity,  he  hurried  off  to  his  attorney. 
The  next  day  (13th  April,  182  i)  an  execution  was  suddenly 
put  in,  and  the  '  Lazarus '  seized.  A  few  days  more,  Haydon 
was  arrested,  carried  off  to  prison,  and  before  his  wife  had 
quite  realized  the  position,  the  house  was  taken  possession  of 
and  all  their  property  advertised  for  sale. 

The  blow  was  sudden  and  complete,  as  it  was  intended.  It 
rolled  over  them  both  like  a  great  tidal  wave,  and  drowned  out 
all  their  landmarks.  The  news  travelled  far  and  wide ;  the 
exhibition  room  became  deserted.  The  public  was  shocked. 
It  did  not  know  what  to  do  for  him.  His  personal  friends, 
headed  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  rallied  round  him,  but  it  was  too 
late.  The  lawyers  had  got  hold  of  everything,  and  they  were 
not  disposed  to  let  go  except  on  exorbitant  terms.  A  man 
with  so  many  powerful  friends  was  not  caught  every  day.  But 
the  bulk  of  the  nobility  and  patrons  held  back.  A  few 
thousands,  a  trifle  from  each,  would  have  paid  his  debts,  and 
placed  him  in  security  to  continue  his  labours.  But  no.  He 
would  paint  historical  pictures,  contrary  to  their  wish,  and  they 
were  not  going  to  help  him  now.  A  few  great  lords  grumbled 
out  their  pity,  looked  on  at  his  sale,  never  interfered  to  stop  the 
dispersion  of  his  collection,  and  left  him  mouldering  in  prison  for 
the  whole  London  season.    At  the  end  of  July,  1823,  Haydon 


126 


MEMOIR  OF 


was  brought  up  before  the  Commissioners,  and  there  being  no 
opposition,  was  immediately  discharged.  He  remarks  that 
he  was  treated  with  great  kindness  and  consideration  by  the 
court. 

And  this,  I  think,  may  be  conveniently  taken  to  close  the 
second  period  of  Haydon's  career. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  period  we  left  him  in  a  critical 
position;  he  had  won  a  reputation  as  a  writer  upon  art  and 
as  a  painter  of  great  promise.  But  the  '  Dentatus '  affair  at 
the  Academy  had  deprived  him  of  the  confidence  of  the 
patrons,  and  his  "Three  Letters"  had  placed  him  without 
the  pale  of  society.  The  question  with  his  own  friends  was, 
would  he  or  would  he  not  make  good  his  promise  ?  J  think 
we  may  say  he  fully  redeemed  it.  In  these  ten  years  he 
showed  that,  with  a  brilliant  imagination,  he  had  the  patience, 
the  humility,  the  calmness  necessary  to  the  meditation  required 
to  develop  his  conceptions.  Besides  smaller  works,  he  had 
succeeded,  with  one  exception,  always  under  adverse  circum- 
stances in  painting  three  of  the  grandest  scriptural  works  and 

on  the  largest  scale  ever  painted  by  any  modern  Englishman  

by  the  'Judgment  of  Solomon,'  the  'Entry  into  Jerusalem,' 
and  the  'Baising  of  Lazarus.'  His  conceptions  of  the  false 
mother  fur  malignity,  of  the  penitent  girl  for  pathos,  and  of 
Lazarus  for  sublimity  and  awe  have  never  been  surpassed, 
especially  the  latter.  The  head  of  Lazarus,  it  is  acknowledged, 
will  hold  its  own  against  the  greatest  painters  of  the  finest 
periods  of  art.*  His  development  of  power  from  the  '  Joseph  and 
Mary'  of  1S07  and  'Dentatus'  of  18U9  is  remarkable.  It  is 
difficult  to  look  at  the  first  of  these  two  and  believe  the  same 
hand  painted  the  others.  At  least  you  have  to  look  closely 
before  you  discover  here  and  there  traces  of  the  power  that 
'  Solomon '  displays.  In  the  '  Dentatus  '  proofs  of  great  power 
in  its  expression  of  thought  and  distinction  of  character  are 
more  apparent.  The  dying  soldier  in  the  foreground  is  a 
wonderful  bit  of  conception,  expression,  and  painting,  and  the 
whole  designed  in  first-rate  spirit.  But  it  is  in  the  'Judgment 
of  Solomon '  Haydon's  real  powers  come  out.  He  showed  here 
that  he  could  paint  the  human  soul  as  well  as  the  human  figure. 

*  Hayd  m  lias  left  it  on  record  that  if  this  head  of  Lazarus  is  subjected  t  >  the 
process  enlled  "cleaning, '  :.s  practised,  in  his  day,  at  the  Natiouul  Gallery,  it 
will  be  ruined.    This  is  worth  remembering. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


127 


He  seems  to  have  conceived  and  painted  this  picture  with  an 
extraordinary  sense  of  freedom  from  the  harass  of  control. 
His  mastery  over  every  variety  of  human  expression,  his  bold 
and  powerful  drawing,  his  control  of  light  and  shade,  his  fine 
colour,  and  his  noble  composition  show  here  what  was  really  in 
him,  and  how  completely  he  could  dwarf  all  his  contemporaries. 
In  Paris  they  said  the  '  Dentatus'  had  "established"  his  repu- 
tation ;  they  had  no  idea  of  what  was  coming  in  the '  Solomon.'* 
In  the  '  Jerusalem,'  in  Wordsworth's  opinion  expressed  to  me, 
Haydon  surpassed  the  '  Solomon.'  He  admitted  the  colour  and 
execution  and  fine  drawing  and  expression  of  the  '  Solomon,' 
but  he  said  the  '  Jerusalem '  "  exceeded "  it  in  general  com- 
pleteness of  effect,  in  the  more  perfect  embodiment  of  his 
ideal,  in  a  larger  and  deeper  conception  of  human  expression, 
in  the  exquisite  beauty  and  variety  of  which,  Wordsworth  said 
Haydon  had  "equalled  the  greatest  painters,"  and  for  these 
reasons  he  preferred  it  to  the  '  Solomon,'  fine  as  that  was. 

In  the  '  Lazarus '  faults  of  haste,  and  of  exaggeration  conse- 
quent upon  haste,  begin  to  appear.  Yet  the  picture  has  many 
beauties,  and  a  breadth  and  grandeur  about  it  not  to  be  seen  in 
the  works  of  many  masters.  In  the  pathos  of  human  grief  the 
expression  of  Martha  has  seldom  been  surpassed,  while  no 
pai l.ter  living  or  dead,  of  any  school,  has  approached  the  head 
of  Lazarus.  There  is  nothing  like  the  expression  of  Lazarus 
in  the  whole  of  European  art,  ancient  or  modern.  The  painter 
of  that  head  would  have  been  honoured  in  Greece  or  Italy  ; 
in  England  he  was  left  to  linger  in  prison,  and  his  name  is  now 
never  mentioned  by  a  public  speaker. 

In  addition  to  these  paintings  of  Irs  own,  Haydon,  within 
this  period,  had  laboured  hard  to  attain  his  great  objects,  the 
elevation  of  a  higher  standard  in  the  art,  employment  on 
pubbc  works  for  painters,  the  establishment  of  public  schools 
of  art,  and  the  improvement  of  the  taste  of  the  people.  His 

*  Leslie,  in  Irs  '  Handbook  for  Young  Painters,'  refers  to  Havd  n's  '  Solomon ' 
more  than  once.  "  Hud  such  a  picture,'  he  writes  (p.  60),  '•  bien  produced  in 
France,  it  would  have  been  placed  in  the  Louvre  immedi  itely  on  the  death  of 
the  painter.  But  the  Trustees  of  our  National  Gallery  missed  securing  it  for  a 
nominal  sum,  while  they  were  spending  the  public  money  on  doubtful  or  daum-.  ,1 
or  second-rate  pictures  of  the  old  masters."  "  Whatever,"  he  adds,  "  may  lie  the 
faults  of  this  great  work  of  Haydon's,  it  would  sustain  itself  with  credit  by  the 
side  of  Rubens  and  his  faults:  and  it  will  be  disgraceful  to  the  country"  if  it 
(the  'Solomon')  does  not  ultimately  find  a  re^ting-jalace  in  the  Kaiiunal 
Gallery.'' — Ed. 


23 


MEMOIR  OF 


action  on  the  Elgin  Marbles  bad  saved  those  glorious  fragments 
to  the  country,  and  his  education  of  Eastlake,  the  Land  eers, 
Bewick,  Lance,  Harvey,  Ghatfield,  Prentis,  and  others  had  done 
certain  good,  while  his  placing  their  cartoons  before  the  public 
had  drawn  attention  to  the  great  powers  of  English  students 
under  sound  instruction. 

All  th's  Haydon  had  done  without  the  lea-t  aid  or  promise 
of  encouragement  from  the  Government  or  nobility,  and  with 
only  a  limited  assurance  from  a  few  personal  friends.  But 
then  some  men  have  the  gift  of  doing  great  things  with  small 
means,  just  as  Lord  Peterboro'  captured  Montjuich  with  a  hand- 
ful of  men.  Nor  do  I  believe  any  private  advantage  to  have 
been  in  his  eye.  His  most  extravagant  desire  was  the  removal 
of  that  apathy  in  high  places,  and  those  official  hindrances  which 
checked  the  advance  of  historical  painting  in  England,  together 
with  the  employment  of  our  painters  on  public  works,  and  the 
establishment  of  schools  of  design.  He  would  have  liked,  I 
believe,  to  clear  himself  from  debt  by  his  own  labours.  But  his 
main  object  throughout  was  to  show  the  Government  and  the 
nobility  that  historical  paintings  on  a  large  scale  were  appre- 
ciated by  the  public,  and  that  subjects  might  be  so  chosen  and 
pa  nted  not  merely  to  gratify  the  eye,  but  to  appeal  to  our 
higher  feelings,  and  call  forth  what  is  good  and  noble  in  the 
m  uds  of  men.  And  he  painted  on  the  scale  of  life  and  larger, 
because,  although  the  more  difficult,  it  was  the  more  impressive, 
and  as  a  matter  of  art,  was  better  calculated  to  keep  English 
art  from  degrading  into  a  mere  imitative  and  decorative  trade, 
than  the  small,  highly-wrought  palpable  style  of  the  Dutch 
school  to  which  he  saw  English  art  was  rapidly  tending.* 

That  the  Government  and  the  nobility  refused  to  accept 
Haydun's  view  is  no  proof  that  he  was  in  error,  rather  the 
reverse.  They  did  not  support  him  for  the  same  reason  they 
did  not  support  Reynolds  or  Etty — until  he  consented  to 
become  the  Crebillon  of  art— or  Flaxman,  or  the  young 
sculptor  Proctor,  whom  they  left  to  be  starved  to  death,  after 

*  When  a  painter  is  ignorant  of  the  anatomy  of  the  human  form  and  of  the 
functions  of  the  bones  and  muscles,  he  dare  not  venture  upon  the  naked  figure,  or 
attempt  to  paint  in  life  size.  He  therefore  confines  him- elf  to  a  diminutive  scale, 
covers  his  figures  with  armour  or  blight  clothing,  finishes  highly,  and  passes 
off  what  may  be  a  very  pretty  picture  as  a  beautiful  specimen  of  the  highest  art; 
murh  as  the  French  cook  by  the  help  of  condiments  and  a  piquante  sauce  lur.  d 
his  master  into  eating  his  own  slippers.  But  in  neither  case  is  the  dish  fit  for  a 
healthy  uppcti;e. — Ed 


B  R.  HA  YDON, 


1-9 


winning  both  prizes  for  poetic  sculpture.*  They  were  not 
qualified  to  appreciate  ideal,  historic,  or  poetic  art,  and  they 
had  no  conception  of  the  educational  functions  and  value  of 
art,  and  never  will  have  until  they  are  taught  with  their 
languages  and  classics  to  acquire  some  notions  of  the  intrinsic 
interest  and  value  of  art,  and  the  use  it  was  intended  by  Pro- 
vidence to  serve  in  the  government  of  mankind.f  At  ]  resent, 
I  fear,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  larger  part  of  "  our  ardent 
youth  to  noblest  manners  framed "  have  no  more  real  know- 
ledge of,  or  taste  for  art  than  their  grandfathers,  and  that  was 
comprised  in  a  flat  portrait  of  themselves,  their  dogs,  and 
horses,  to  which  may  now  be  added  a  series  of  gaudy  French 
photographs  of  questionable  aim.  The<e,  with  other  gross  or 
unrefined  subjects,  they  continue  to  prefer  to  the  noblest  works 
of  art,  representing  the  most  glorious  deeds  of  religion  or 
of  history  by  the  greatest  painters. 

There  is  a  small  minority  of  noble  exceptions,  men  and 
women  of  high  culture,  of  pure  and  refined  taste  ;  but  they  are 
few  in  number,  not  generally  wealthy,  and  as  they  shrink  from 
a  contest  with  the  coarser  and  uncultivated  minds  about  them, 
their  influence  in  their  order  is  limited. 

It  may  not  be  inopportune  to  notice  here  a  charge  fre- 
quently brought  by  biographers  against  Haydon  as  to  his 
inordinate  estimation  of  his  own  importance  to  English  art. 
I  must  confess  I  see  nothing  "inordinate"  in  his  feeling  on 
this  point.  What  I  see  is  a  huge  folly  in  his  making  such  an 
outcry  about  the  nobility  not  crowding  to  his  painting-room 
every  season.  He  had  no  reason  to  expect  they  should. 
They  would  have  left  Raphael  himself  for  Tom  Thumb  any 
day,  and  particularly  if  the  Academy  had  hung  Eaphael's 
'  Madonna '  in  their  Octagon-room.  But,  beyond  this  folly, 
I  see  little  to  condemn  in  Haydon's  attitude.  He  was  the 
leader  of  historic  art  in  England.  There  was  no  man  in 
England  who  held  and  expressed  such  high  views  of  art,  and 
no  man  who  was  his  equal  either  with  his  brush  or  his  pen 
upon  his  own  subject  on  his  own  scale.    In  these  no  man  then 

*  Proctor's  fate  was  rrn  st  melancholy.  I  believe  he  died  in  an  obscure  lodging 
iu  Clare  Market,  of  absolute  starvation.— Ed. 

t  We  had  a  striking-  instance  recently  of  a  young  Marquis  and  cx-Ministcr 
asking  the  kind  indulgence  .  f  Lis  audience  lor  his  utter  and  complete  ignorance 
of  Art,  the  subject  he  had  to  speak  upon.  It  was  a  candid  confession,  but  a  very 
painful  one  to  hear.— Ed.  " 

VOL.  L  K 


1?0 


MEMOIR  OF 


living  could  approach  him,  and  I  do  not  know  one  now  who 
could.  And  he  had  won  his  pre-eminence  over  every  opposition 
by  the  mere  force  of  his  intellect  and  the  patience  of  his  in- 
dustry. Moreover,  his  aim  was  a  public  aim,  not  a  petty  or  a 
personal  one,  but  a  great  public  object.  Had  he  not,  therefore, 
the  right  to  consider  his  art,  his  pupils,  and  himself  as  its  chief 
exponent  of  some  importance  from  a  national  point  of  view? 
There  is  one  answer  to  this,  by  another  question.  What 
has  become  of  High  Art  and  high  aims  in  arr  since  Haydon's 
death  ?  Do  we  ever  in  the  profession  hear  anything  like  h  s 
vo  ce  now  ?  Do  we  ever  in  the  merely  clever  imitations  of 
Nature  and  analytic  studies  annually  put  before  us  find  any- 
thing equal  to  his  id:>al  works,  anything,  with  all  their  faults, 
so  full  of  the  spirit  that  br'ngs  art  in  contact  with  the  highest 
and  noblest  sentiments  of  our  being  ?  Whether  Haydon  was 
ru'ned  or  not,  is  nothing  to  the  point;  that  he  was  ruined 
and  driven  from  High  Art  into  portrait  and  small  copies  of  h:s 
own  works  to  get  a  living,  is  no  proof  he  was  wrong  in  his 
views,  but  rather  a  reproach  to  the  apathy,  the  ignorance,  the 
insincerity,  and,  I  fear,  the  vulgar  taste  in  art  of  the  nobility, 
the  patrons  and  authorities  in  England.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds, 
we  know,  acknowledged  that,  in  face  of  the  obstructions  he  saw- 
before  him  in  England,  he  did  not  "  feel  his  power  equal  "  to 
undertake  historical  painting.  He  confined  his  efforts,  there- 
fore, to  doing  that  to  which  he  felt  equal,  viz.,  the  rescue  ol 
portrait  painting  from  the  insipidity  and  mannerism  into  which 
it  had  fallen.  That  Reynolds  really  believed  the  interests  ot 
British  art  in  his  time  to  be  bound  up  in  himself  would  not  be 
difficult  to  show.  Why,  then,  is  Haydon,  who  did  for  history 
what  Reynolds  did  for  portrait,  to  be  condemned  for  holding, 
relatively,  the  same  opinion?  The  value  of  the  charge  turns 
upon  the  sincerity  of  the  belief.  If  Haydon  had  been  insin- 
cere in  his  desire  for  the  public  good,  and  under  cover  of  such 
professions  to  be  merely  striving  after  his  own  personal  and 
pecuniary  advantage,  there  would  be  some  ground  to  condemn 
him.  But  in  the  face  of  such  a  purely  unselfish  course  as  he 
pursued  (and  in  this  he  stands  far  beyond  Reynolds),  to  con- 
demn him  for  doing  what  he  believed  to  be  his  duty  by  the 
art  and  to  the  public,  viz.,  keeping  his  art  and  necessarily 
himself  and  his  pupils  perpetually  before  the  public  for  the 
public  good,  and  to  see  nothing  in  his  action  but  mere  vanity 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


131 


and  "love  of  vulgar  applause,"  shows  how  easily  a  critic, 
eager  to  find  faults,  may  forget  his  own ;  and  how  sickening 
to  those,  who  wish  to  retain  their  faith  in  honest  criticism, 
must  be  such  an  exhibition  of  the  influence  of  the  meanest, 
passions. 


From  a  pen  and  Ink  sketch  by  Wilkle.    A  study  for  a  head  for  his  '  Chelsea  Pensioners.' 


MEMOIR  OF 


THIRD  PERIOD. 

Haydont  came  out  of  prison  deeply  humiliated.  The  forced 
inactivity  and  the  severance  from  his  wife  and  child  was  hard 
to  bear,  and  thoughts  of  them  perhaps  lay  nearer  to  his 
heart  than  all  besides.  But  now  that  he  came  out  again 
upon  the  world  to  find  his  house  stripped,  his  school  of 
pupils  broken  up,  and  himself  deprived  of  everything  that 
helped  to  endear  his  art  to  him,  his  prints,  his  books, 
his  casts,  his  sketches,  his  anatomical  studies,  the  very 
materials  of  his  art,  and  all  his  practice  scattered  among  a 
thousand  purchasers,  the  loss  was  too  cruel  to  be  forgotten. 
The  memory  of  it  lasted  him  for  his  life,  and  racked  him 
with  anguish  from  time  to  time.  It  has  been  hastily  said 
that  time  softens  all  griefs.  But  the  "miscreant"  never  restores 
to  us  what  he  has  ruined,  and  the  loss  of  property  that  cannot 
be  replaced  is  an  inconsolable  loss  —  it  remains  with  us  all 
our  lives. 

A  few  things  only,  bought  in  for  him  by  Sir  G.  Beaumont, 
by  Wilkie,  and  by  Dr.  Darling,  were  all  that  he  ever  recovered. 
A  fourth  "  friend,"  who  professed  "  to  buy  in  "  generously  "  for 
poor  Haydon,  you  know,"  and  so  got  the  cream  of  the  collec- 
tion at  easy  prices,  was  so  pleased  with  his  bargains  that  he 
forgot  to  part  with  them,  and  has  kept  them  to  himself  ever 
since.  I  believe  he  is  still  living.  If  he  reads  this,  he  may 
look  at  his  treasures  with  increased  interest  to  think  how 
cleverly  he  "jockeyed"  everybody  all  round  in  182-5,  and 
that  I  know  it. 

But  if  Haydon  felt  humiliated,  he  did  not  lose  his  courage  ; 
his  conduct  in  prison  had  been  worthy  of  him.  There  are 
no  complaints,  no  idle  repinings.  His  misfortune  seems, 
on  the  contrary,  to  have  brought  out  the  best  qualities  of 
his  nature,  his  patience,  his  duty,  his  fortitude,  his  faith;  and 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


133 


now  that  be  was  at  liberty  once  more,  be  showed  that  be  still 
retained — 

"'Mid  mnch  abasement,  what  he  had  received 
From  Nature,  an  intense  and  glowing  mind." 

His  first  intention  was  to  return  to  his  stripped  house,  and, 
without  a  chair  to  use,  or  a  bed  to  lie  upon,  paint  his  '  Cruci- 
fixion.' Not  even  his  ruin  caused  him  to  desist  from  High  Art. 
I,  for  one,  regret  he  did  not  carry  his  intention  out.  Then 
and  there  he  would  have  painted  a  'Crucifixion'  that  would 
have  astonished  the  world.  But  my  mother  had  suffered  so 
much,  she  could  not  endure  the  thought  of  more.  Her  own 
private  fortune— which  she  lost  a  few  years  later — was  not 
sufficient  to  maintain  Hayclon  in  his  art,  and,  with  a  woman's 
prudence,  she  counselled  him  to  abandon  this  intention  for  the 
present,  to  retire  to  quiet  lodgings  until  a  suitable  house  could 
be  found,  and  then  wait  for  better  times,  painting  only  cabinet 
pictures  meanwhile.  It  was  weak — oh,  it  was  very  weak— but 
these  are  the  points  in  which  women  fail  us.  Out  of  regard 
for  her,  Haydon  yielded,  contracted  his  vast  design,  and 
shrank  into  a  portrait  painter.  But  to  the  day  of  his  death 
he  never  ceased  to  regret  that  he  had  done  so,  for  the  op- 
portunity never  came  to  him  again.  He  died  without  paint- 
ing what  he  meaned  to  have  been,  and  what  would  have  been, 
the  greatest  of  his  scriptural  works.  * 

He  retired  to  modest  lodgings  on  the  Green  outside  Padding- 
ton  Church,  and  began  to  paint  portraits— that  "  maudlin  sub- 
stitute for  a  poetic  life."  Eastlake,  who  heard  of  his  ruin  at 
Ji'ome,  called  it "  a  national  misfortune."  In  his  J ournal  Haydon 
writes  little.  Now  and  then  he  utters  a  wad  of  agony  over  his 
mined  hopes,  like  the  fabled  oak  cleft  with  a  wedge  of  its  own 
t  mber;  and,  now  and  then,  he  seems  to  fear  for  his  wife  and 
family,  that  li  s  life  henceforth  must  be  one  long  agony  of  means 
to  ends.  For  himself  he  could  face  it;  for  them  it  would  be 
terrible  and  degrading.    Yet  he  had  no  money,  no  capital  but 

*  From  the  sketcles  he  his  left  behind,  it  would  have  been  one  of  the  grandest 
as  well  as  one  of  the  largest  pictures  on  this  subject.  In  a  curious  note  attached 
to  an  early  Autobiography,  1815-24,  is  the  following  passage,  written  about 
1820:  "Shortly  after  the  'Lazarus'  was  finished  this  remarkable  man,  B.  R. 
Haydon,  died.  He  always  said  it  would  be  his  last  great  work.  Another,  John 
Haydon,  painted  in  imitation  of  the  former  a  few  small  works;  but  he  was  a 
married  man— had  five  children — sent  his  pictures  to  the  Academy,  asked  a 
patron  or  two  to  employ  him,  and,  in  slioit,  did  all  those  things  that  men  must 
do  who  prefer  th,  ir  own  degradation  to  the  starvation  of  their  children." — Ed. 


134 


MEMOIR  OF 


his  brains,  aii'l  his  ability  in  art,  and  to  what  had  these  brought 
him  ?  And  he  had  no  employment,  no  prospects,  and  h's  credit 
was  gone.  Once  or  twice,  in  moments  of  despondency,  the 
thought  of  destroying  himself  flashed  into  his  brain — but  he 
drove  it  away.  And  what  did  the  great  nobility  for  him  ?  They 
did  for  him  what  they  have  done  for  many  other  Englishmen  of 
genius.  They  left  him  in  his  "pinching  cave"  to  starve!  Not 
one  of  them  came  near1.  Not  one  commissioned  him  for  a  ten- 
guinea— nay,  that  would  have  been  an  extravagance — a  two- 
guinea  sketch.  And  when  Wordsworth  exerted  himself  man- 
fully to  raise  a  sum  that  should  enable  Haydon  to  carry  out 
his  High  Art,  they  would  not  subscribe.  That  may  be  under- 
stood perhaps,  but  the  want  of  feeling  they  showed  towards 
him  in  his  distress  is  painful  to  read  of.  As  they  must  have 
known  he  had  nothing  to  do,  perhaps  they  had  resolved  he 
should  have  nothing  to  eat.  It  is  one  of  their  favourite 
maxims  for  the  poor,  "  People  who  do  nothing  should  eat 
nothing ; "  an  excellent  rule,  only  it  should  be  impartially 
applied.  Or  possibly,  having  experienced  the  mischief  that  a 
full  stomach  and  no  active  employment  every  day  did  for  them, 
they  had  resolved  to  save  him  from  the  risk  of  similar  cor- 
ruption ;  so  they  staid  away. 

It  reads  like  a  romance ;  but  it  is  all  too  true.  Of  th's 
great  body,  chiefly  made  up  of  idle,  titled,  and  estated  men, 
one  of  whose  few  duties  in  life  was  self-culture  so  as  to 
enable  them  to  understand  and  support  Art,  not  one  came  near 
Haydon  after  his  ruin,  in  1 823,  to  see  whether  he  was  starving, 
or  inquire  if  he  were  dead.  Yet  he  was  the  only  man  of 
genius  in  historic  art  the  country  possessed. 

Perhaps  they  believed  him  dead,  and  buried  by  the  pari  h 
in  a  quiet,  unobtrusive  way,  and  thus  they  were  relieved  of  all 
responsibility.  But  dead  or  not,  buried  or  above  ground,  after 
all  their  fulsome  flattery  of  him  from  1814  to  1S20,  they 
might  have  called,  if  only  to  take  a  look  at  his  corpse,  and 
"inquire"  how  he  died. 

In  no  other  country  but  England,  where  prescription  and 
privilege  are  so  respected,  and  the  titled  nobility  so  unfeeling, 
could  such  a  thing  happen.  Even  Cervantes,  in  the  most  abso- 
lute period  of  aristocratic  Spain,  was  at  least  fed  and  kept  in  view 
by  his  aristocratic  tormentors,  though  they  left  him  to  be  buried 
by  the  parish  at  the  last.    But  Haydon,  living,  was  positively 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


'55 


loft  to  starve  ;  and,  but  for  good  Joseph  Strutt,  of  Derby,  who 
was  always  ready  with  a  kind  word  of  hope  and  prompt  assist- 
ance, Haydon  would  have  starved  in  his  own  country,  while  he 
w.is  honoured  and  respected  abroad — while  Paris  was  delight- 
ing over  his  works  and  declaring  his  fame,  and  Denon  and 
Cuvier  and  Horace  Vernet  spreading  his  praises,  and  Kumohr 
and  Goethe  enjoying  his  essays,  and  Dannecker  and  Canova 
giving  him  proofs  of  their  high  esteem.  Even  "  barbarous 
liussia,"  as  we  delight  in  calling  her  to  show  our  superior 
civilisation,  felt  h  s  influence,  and  the  Imperial  Academy  at 
St.  Petersburg,  without  his  knowledge,  had  unanimously 
elected  him  a  member  of  their  distinguished  body  for  his  great 
public  services  to  art.  The  diploma  reached  him  while  he  was 
in  prison.  He  fixes  it  and  his  copy  of  the  prison  rules  side  by 
side  in  his  journal.  No  wonder  that  he  exclaimed  with  the 
indignant  Leibnitz,  that  justice  was  done  him  everywhere 
in  Europe  but  there  alone  where  he  had  most  reason  to  ex- 
pect it. 

The  remainder  of  this  terrible  year,  and  for  some  months  of 
18. '4,  Haydon  passed  in  the  greatest  extremity,  painting  a  few 
portraits  of  his  tradesmen  in  payment  of  their  bills. 

"  Oh !  how  unlike 
To  that  large  utterance  of  the  early  gods." 

To  "crown"  his  sorrow  by  "remembering  happier  things,"  he 
passed  his  evenings  making  pen  sketches  only  of  beautiful 
subjects  :  Venus  and  Anchises,  Mercury  and  Argos,  Satan  and 
Uriel,  but  not  daring  to  put  them  upon  canvas. 

His  journal  for  these  months  is  little  more  than  a  record  of 
painful  and  degrading  poverty.  Entries  such  as  these  follow 
day  by  day : — 

"  Obliged  to  go  out  in  the  rain.  I  left  my  room  with  no 
?oals  in  it,  and  no  money  to  buy  any." 


u  Arose  in  the  greatest  distress.    Prayed  earnestly." 


"  Not  a  shilling  in  the  world.  Walked  about  the  streets,  I 
was  so  full  of  grief.    I  could  not  have  concealed  it  at  home." 


1 35  MEMOIR  OF 

"  Arose  in  an  agony  of  feeling  from  want." 


"  In  the  greatest  distress.  Merciful  God,  that  Thou  shouldst 
permit  a  being  with  thought  and  feeling  to  be  so  racked." 


And  so  on  to  the  end  of  this  miserable  year.  It  brings  tears 
into  my  eyes,  callous  as  I  ought  to  be,  to  read  these  daily 
"  troublings  of  a  deaf  Heaven  with  bootless  cries." 

It  is  impossible  not  to  feel  for  and  pity  him.  The  cold, 
hard,  unfeeling  world  cannot  even  remotely  conceive  the 
agonies  of  his  mind  at  some  of  these  periods.  And  what  a 
curious  comment  upon  a  "  high  state  of  civilization  "  and  the 
"  best  form  of  government "  it  all  offers !  Similar  entries,  I 
regret  to  say,  are  to  be  found,  more  or  less,  for  the  next  two 
years.  Indeed  for  the  next  thirteen  years  Haydon's  life  appears 
to  me  to  have  been  one  desperate  struggle  against  that  starva- 
tion by  which  the  patrons  and  nobility  (with  one  or  two  excep- 
tions only)  seemed  resolved  to  cure  him  of  his  love  for  High  Art. 
Want,  worldly  want,  was  kept  "at  his  heels  and  chased  him 
hourly."    He  must  have  often  asked,  with  Otway, 

"  Tell  me  why,  good  Heaven, 
Thou  madest  me  what  I  am,  with  all  the  spirit, 
Aspiring  thoughts,  and  elegant  desires 
That  fill  the  happiest  man  ?    Ah !  rather  why 
Didst  thou  not  form  me  sordid  as  my  fate, 
Base-minded,  dull,  and  fit  to  carry  burdens? 
Why  have  I  sense  to  know  the  curse  thafs  on  me  ? 
Is  this  just  dealing,  Nature  ?  " 

Yet  for  nineteen  previous  years  this  man  had  been  doing 
groat  and  good  public  work,  had  sacrificed  every  chance  of  his 
own  profit  or  pleasure  to  raise  the  taste  of  the  English  people 
and  to  lay  the  foundation  for  a  sound  system  of  art  instruction, 
never  thinking  of  himself  and  his  own  interests,  but  only  of  the 
honour  and  glory  of  his  country ;  not  failing  at  any  time  for  want 
of  energy  or  self-denial,  but,  in  spite  of  every  obstruction,  doing 
effectually  what  he  undertook.  Perhaps  this  was  his  crime. 
There  is  nothing,  we  know,  so  unpardonable  with  great  folks  as 
to  stop  their  mouths  by  succeeding,  when  they  wish  you  to  fail. 
And  so  he  was  now  forced  by  this  nobility  and  these  patrons,  who 
held  between  them  the  patronage  of  the  nation,  to  struggle  fur 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


137 


bare  life  as  much  as  any  poor  drowning  sailor  grasping  at  a  lien- 
coop.  The  apathy  with  which  they  looked  on  and  watched  him 
beating  against  starvation  would  be  inexplicable  on  any  other 
grounds,  unless  the  chief  occupation  of  their  lives  be  irrational 
and  selfish  enjoyment.  Now,  too,  that  he  was  down,  the  whole 
herd  of  hostile  critics,  headed  by  Theodore  Hook,  gratified  that 
inborn  love  of  inflicting  pain  upon  others,  which  is  so  prominent 
in  some  men.  They  set  upon  Haydon  and  mangled  him.  But 
the  operation  of  these  adventurers  in  mischief  was  coarse  and 
repulsive,  and  wanting  in  the  coolness  and  skill  of  the  true 
•  Quarterly '  anatomist.*  In  short,  I  can  only  liken  Haydon's 
position  at  this  period  to  that  of  a  seceding  Romanist  in  Ire- 
land— a  "  convert,"  as  we  call  him — surrounded  by  hostile  and 
bigoted  neighbours,  subjected  to  intolerable  indignities,  re- 
fused land,  refused  work,  refused  custom,  and  left  to  struggle 
against  starvation  till  he  dies,  or  else — and  this  is  the  best 
thing  for  him — to  have  his  brains  beaten  out  by  a  hedgestake. 

but  ruined,  despised,  rejected  as  he  now  felt  himself  to  be, 
suffering  from  absolute  want,  and  almost  hopeless  of  employ- 
ment since  the  attacks  upon  him  by  the  critics,  Haydon 
never  loses  his  courage.  JSow  and  then  he  is  depressed  and 
melancholy,  but  he  never  despairs,  and  never  loses  sight  of  the 
main  object  he  had  in  view,  the  establishment  of  Schools  of 
Design,  and  public  support  for  painting.  While  in  prison  he 
had  seized  the  opportunity  of  leisure  to  draw  out  a  petition  to 
Parliament,  praying  the  House  to  appoint  a  Commission  to 
inquire  into  the  state  of  High  Art,  with  the  view  to  extend  its 
just  influence  in  the  country  and  prevent  the  ruin  and  degrada- 
tion of  its  professors.  He  suggests  the  public  employment  of 
our  historical  painters  on  the  decoration  of  our  Houses  of  Parlia- 

*  Hook  was  witty,  but  vulgar,  and  wholly  unprincipled— at  least  in  his  attacks 
on  Haydou.  When  remonstrated  with  some  time  afterwards  by  a  mutual  friend, 
lie  said,  "Good  God,  my  dear  fellow  1  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  Haydon  was  a 
trieud  of  yours  !  Why,  I  would  have  written  it  all  the  other  way,  if  I  had  only 
known  that."  "  All  public  criticism,"  says  Bulwer,  "  is  the  result  of  private 
friendship;"  he  might  have  added,  of  private  pique,  or  private  pay.  Amusing 
instances  are  within  the  common  experience  of  most  men.  A  Radical  paper  was 
lately  in  the  market,  and  was  bought  by  the  Tories.  The  editor  begged  to  be 
allowed  to  rema  n,  and  remains.  Not  long  since,  in  a  large  provincial  town,  it 
was  proposed  to  e  tablish  a  Tory  paper.  The  man  who  first  offered  his  services 
as  editor  was  the  editor  of  the  leading  Radical  paper  in  the  same  town.  It 
would  be  a  better  plan  to  establish  an  institution  for  the  training  of  writers  for 
public  hire.  Then  we  should  know  exactly  where  we  were,  and  we  mi^'ht  easily 
learn  qualifications  a  id  antecedents.  At  present,  with  few  honourable  and 
distinguished  exceptions,  it  is  hard  for  the  public  to  discriminate. — Ed. 


«38 


MEMOIR  OF 


mont  and  public  offices,  and  he  calls  the  serious  attention  of  the 
House  to  the  fact  that,  in  addition  to  the  benefits  "  that  have 
always  accrued  to  every  nation  by  which  the  arts  have  been 
successfully  protected,  the  improvement  of  its  manufactures 
cannot  be  denied  nor  overlooked."  The  petition  was  presented 
by  Mr.  Brougham  in  an  eloquent  and  feeling  speech,  which 
gave  rise  to  a  lively  debate,  and  then  the  subject  "  dropped." 

The  House  does  not  feel  for  individual  suffering,  and  it  knew 
nothing  of  Art,  nor  of  its  influence  upon  manufactures.  The 
result  was  not  hopeful.  Yet  Haydon  was  scarcely  free  from 
prison  before  he  pressed  his  scheme  for  the  public  employ- 
ment of  painters  upon  public  works  on  the  individual  atten- 
tion of  ministers.  But  Art  was  a  matter  of  no  importance  to 
them ;  they  lived  in  a  dream  of  corrupt  politics,  they  suffered 
under  a  moral  and  mental  disease  of  jobbery,  that  did  not 
even  reach  the  stage  of  clairvoyance.  Canning  was  icily  cold, 
as  usual,  to  Haydon ;  all  the  rest,  with  the  exception  of  Sir 
Charles  Long  (Lord  Farnborough),  utterly  apathetic.  They 
did  not  acknowledge  the  necessity  for  Haydon  or  his  High 
Art.  Sir  Charles  Long  admitted  the  apathy,  but  he  would 
not  exert  himself  to  remove  it.  He  seems  to  have  been  more 
inclined  to  get  what  he  could  out  of  Haydon  for  nothing,  than 
to  get  his  scheme  carried.  He  flattered  him,  amused  him,  con- 
doled with  him,  and  asked  him  for  a  plan  of  decoration  in  any 
single  case.  What  would  he  propose  ?  How  would  he  begin  ? 
Haydon,  in  his  sincerity,  drew  out  a  plan  in  detail  for  the  deco- 
ration of  the  great  room  at  the  Admiralty.  Sir  Charles  took  it, 
studied  it  carefully,  put  it  into  his  desk,  and  asked  Haydon  to 
supply  him  with  another  and  more  comprehensive  plan.  This 
was  comparatively  a  "small  affair;"  Haydon,  in  his  simplicity, 
foiled  him.  Instead  of  supp'ying  him  with  the  "  comprehensive 
plan"  he  was  angling  for,  Haydon  addressed  him  in  a  sensible 
letter,  pointing  out  that  in  the  then  feeling  of  Parliament  the 
very  magnitude  of  a  comprehensive  plan  would  ensure  its  rejec- 
tion. It  was  best  to  begin  humbly,  and  by  inappreciable  degrees 
work  slowly  to  the  greater  end.  "  Any  plan,"  writes  Haydon 
(10th  August,  1823),  "  however  extensive,  must  have  a  begin- 
ning, and  if  Government  and  the  British  Institution  were  to 
resolve  to  adorn  the  public  halls  of  the  country,  they  could  not 
adorn  them  all  at  once.  It  was  on  this  principle  that  I  recom- 
mended as  a  specimen  for  a  beginning  the  great  room  at  the 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


'39 


Admiralty.  The  great  principle  of  encouragement  in  Greece 
or  Italy  was  gradual  encouragement.  Neither  the  Vatican  nor 
the  Pantheon  were  the  result  at  once  of  any  sudden  proposition 
or  extreme  plan,  but  the  result  of  unnumbered  individual  acts 
of  patronage.  Cimabue,  Giotto,  Massaccio,  and  Donatello  Ghi- 
berti  were  enabled,  by  the  patrons  of  their  time,  to  put  forth 
their  power  and  so  prepare  the  way  for  Raphael  and  Michel 
Angelo.  But  if  the  patrons  living  in  the  times  of  Cimabue,  &c, 
had  not  supported  them  because  they  had  not  the  means  to 
produce  a  Vatican  or  a  Capella  Sistina,  in  all  probability 
neither  a  Vatican  nor  a  Capella  Sistina  would  ever  have 
appeared. 

****** 

"  Permit  me  to  say  there  never  was  a  reign  in  the  history 
of  the  world  more  worthy  of  illustration  by  the  arts  than  this 
of  our  present  King.  And  yet,  so  far  as  a  national  repre- 
sentation of  any  of  its  glorious  deeds  by  land  and  sea,  what 
has  been  done?  Nothing — absolutely  nothing.  Would  any 
other  nation,  any  other  Government  in  the  world  but  ours, 
have  passed  by  the  glories  of  the  Peninsula  and  Trafalgar, 
or  have  suffered  such  a  mighty  battle  as  that  of  Waterloo 
to  lapse  without  one  single  pictorial  remembrance  of  its 
glory?  The  only  thing  like  a  public  remembrance  that  I 
have  seen  I  saw  at  the  guard-house  of  the  Foot  Guards.  Some 
soldier,  in  the  simplicity  of  his  patriotism,  had  printed 
'  Waterloo  '  with  a  common  pen,  on  a  sheet  of  foolscap,  and 
with  a  pair  of  scissors  had  cut  rays  of  glory  round  the  word. 
This  was  hung  up  over  the  door  of  the  guard-room,  and  I 
saw  it." 

To  these  remarks  Sir  Charles  Long  offers  no  reply  except 
that  he  had  "no  power,"  and,  in  fact,  the  thing  was  "  hopeless." 
He  does  not  forget,  however,  to  keep  the  plan  Haydon  has  sent 
him.  Five  years  later,  in  conjunction  with  Wilson  Croker, 
he  applies  it  to  the  decoration  of  Greenwich  Hall  as  his  own, 
and  keeps  Haydon  out  of  all  share  in  the  work !  Haydon 
saw  the  Hall  on  the  29th  of  August,  1829,  and  records  what  he 
saw : — "  Went  to  Greenwich  and  saw  the  gallery  they  are 
making.  The  plan  originated  with  me.  Lord  Farnborough 
(Sir  Charles  Long)  has  had  the  meanness  to  decline  my  plan 
for  the  Admiralty,  and  adopt  it,  without  reference  to  me,  at 
Greenwich." 


MEMOIR  OF 


"Never  was  ignorance  of  the  power— the  public  power — of  the 
art  shown  so  completely  as  in  the  arrangement  of  this  gallery. 
Instead  of  making  history  the  leading  feature,  adorned  and 
assisted  by  leading  portraits  of  the  great  and  illustrious  only,  it  is 
a  family  collection  of  portraits  of  men  who  got  command  through 
borough-mongering,  and  did  nothing  to  deserve  distinction 
then  or  now.  Hanged  along  at  the  bottom  are  a  few  paltry 
attempts  at  history,  cabinet  size,  as  if  to  bring  the  higher 
works  of  art  into  actual  contempt.  No  figure  in  such  a  gallery 
should  be  less  than  life  at  least ;  and  as  to  subjects,  let  them 
be  chosen  to  illustrate  the  actors,  and  not  the  actors  to  be 
buried  in  the  scenes  and  shipping."  These  are  sound  remarks, 
but  he  might  as  well  have  made  them  to  the  wooden  legs  of 
Ihe  Greenwich  pensioners  as  to  the  authorities,  for  any  effect. 
Croker  and  Lord  Farnborough  had  unlimited  power  ;  and  the 
proof  they  gave  of  the  extent  -of  their  notions  of  what  the 
decorations  of  a  public  hall  ought  to  be  showed,  among  other 
things,  how  deeply  planted  in  the  nature  of  such  men  is  the 
love  of  a  '"job."  Instead  of  arranging  the  hall  with  reference 
to  the  glory  of  the  British  Navy,  all  they  did  was,  says  Hay- 
don,  "  to  oblige  '  My  Lord '  by  hanging  up  some  fusty  portrait 
of  My  Lord's  great-grandfather;"  and,  as  Haydon  puts  it, 
"  unlock  the  garrets  of  all  the  houses  of  all  their  friends  who 
have  had  a  '  Dick  '  or  a  '  Tom '  in  the  Navy."  In  fact,  they 
reversed  the  order  of  the  art,  and  rendered  the  whole  arrange- 
ment degrading  and  ridiculous. 

Meantime,  Haydon  prepared  a  second  petition,  which  Mr. 
Lambton  presented  (14th  June,  18:'4) ;  and  in  a  powerful 
speech  advocated  Haydon's  views  for  a  grant  of  public  money 
to  the  British  historical  painters.  But  the  subject  fell  upon 
the  ears  of  a  cold  and  uncultured  audience.  The  petition  was 
ordered  "  to  lie  on  the  table,"  and  the  subject  again  "  dropped." 
Not  disheartened  by  the  ill-success  of  his  two  efforts  with  Parlia- 
ment, Haydon  pressed  his  views  upon  ministers,  and  private 
members  in  every  direction ;  maintaining  himself  all  the  time 
by  painting  portraits,  and  here,  I  stop  to  admit,  he  did  not 
often  succeed.  The  fact  is,  the  historical  painter  paints  what 
lie  imagines  ;  the  portrait  painter,  what  he  sees.  Haydon's 
hand  was  more  powerful  than  patient  under  portrait  ;  and  his 
heart  was  not  often  in  the  work,  and  always  rebelled  against 
the  control  of  his  sitters  and  their  friends— it  was  an  in- 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


Mi 


dignity  to  his  art.  The  happiness  of  historical  painting,  lie 
says,  is  that  "  every  hour's  progress  is  an  accession  of  know- 
ledge ;  the  mind  never  flags,  but  is  kept  in  one  delicious  tone 
of  meditation  and  fancy :  whereas,  in  portrait  one  sitter,  stupid 
as  *-ibs  of  beef,  goes ;  another  comes,  a  third  follows.  Women 
screw  up  their  mouths  to  make  them  look  pretty,  and  men 
suck  their  lips  to  make  them  look  red.  Then  the  trash  one  is 
obliged  to  talk  !  The  stuff  one  is  obliged  to  copy !  The  fidgets 
that  are  obliged  to  be  borne !  "  All  this  was  only  a  part  of 
that  constant  superintendence  and  control  which  he  resisted, 
but  to  which  portrait  painters  habitually  submit,  to  the  injury 
and  degradation  of  their  art.  "  They  want  me  to  perfume 
them,  like  Lawrence,"  he  writes,  "and  this  I  will  not  do."'  "  I 
must  paint  a  face  as  I  see  it,"  he  used  to  say ;  "  not  as  you 
wish  others  to  see  it."  If  it  had  been  his  lot  to  paint  Han- 
nibal or  Nelson  he  would  have  shown  their  blind  eye.  To  have 
painted  only  that  side  of  their  face  which  did  not  show  the  lost 
eye  would  have  been  false  in  his  opinion ;  and  without  making 
the  blind  eye  prominent  he  would  have  shown  it,  on  the  ground 
that,  without  it,  the  portrait  would  not  have  been  true.  Thus 
he  made  faithful  likenesses,  but  not  a  pleasant  resemblance ; 
and  he  never  concealed  a  defect,  or  embellished.  His  great 
fault  appears  to  be  that  he  saw  character  too  soon,  and  wanted 
the  tact,  so  invaluable  to  a  portrait-painter,  of  seizing  the  most 
agreeable  expression  of  a  sitter's  face,  and  rendering  the  defects 
a  cause  of  skilful  concealment.  Haydon,  on  the  contrary, 
seized  upon  the  most  striking  expression,  and  often  exagger- 
ating it  and  the  defects,  rendered  the  sitter  ludicrous.  But 
the  character  of  his  heads  was  capital.  His  head  of  Miss 
Mitford,  which  I  had  for  many  years,  was  a  remarkable  case  in 
point ;  it  was  also  the  best  likeness  I  ever  saw  of  her,  but 
laughable  in  its  force.  His  portrait  of  the  late  Mr.  Hawkes, 
Mayor  of  Norwich,  is  another  case  in  point.  In  attitude  and 
expression  you  can  see  it  is  the  man,  and  his  reigning  passion  ; 
but  it  is  not  flattering  nor  agreeable,  and  it  is  forcible  to  sar- 
casm. Decidedly  Haydon  failed  as  a  general  portrait-painter 
of  agreeable  resemblance,  but  he  gave  the  character.  And 
yet  portraits  of  his  occur  to  my  mind  in  which  there  can 
be  no  question  of  his  success ;  his  heads  of  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington, of  Wordsworth,  of  Clarkson,  were  as  fine  as  any  por- 
trait-painter by  profession  ever  painted.    The  heads  of  such 


142 


MEMOIR  OF 


men  interested  him.  I  remember  two  more,  widely  different  in 
character,  and  which,  for  equal  beauty  in  the  one,  and  breadth 
and  power  in  the  other,  one  must  seek  something  in  Eeynolds, 
or  Velasquez.  One  was  the  pathetic,  pensive  head  of  his 
dying  boy,  in  which  that  curious  out-look  which  heralds  death, 
and  the  listless,  suffering  attitude,  and  wonderful  intellectual 
beauty,  were  rendered  with  a  fidelity,  an  artlessness,  and  a 
natural  grace,  that  showed  how  Hay  don  could  paint  a  "portrait" 
w  hen  his  heart  was  in  his  work.  The  other  is  a  portrait  of  his 
old  physician,  Dr.  Darling — a  grand  old  Scotch  head,  full  of 
brain  power  and  quiet  humour,  with  just  a  touch  of  the  keen 
Scotch  "  wut "  that  used  to  twinkle  in  the  eye  of  the  kindly 
old  man ;  a  portrait  that,  for  depth  of  expression,  fulness  of 
recorded  life,  and  breadth  of  power,  I  only  fully  understood  when 
1  went  into  the  gallery  at  Madrid  and  studied  Velasquez.  But 
such  sitters  did  not  come  every  day  ;  or  I  doubt  not  Haydon 
would  have  left  some  reputation  as  a  painter  of  portraits.  But 
it  is  to  be  remembered  these  were  his  chosen  sitters.  In  general, 
to  get  bread  and  cheese  he  had  to  plod  on,  taking  anybody 
who  offered,  enduring  all  "  that  drudgery  of  portrait "  Hogarth 
speaks  of  so  bitterly. 

t  He  relieved  his  mind,  however,  by  occasionally  painting 
ideal  subjects  of  a  miniature  size.  Thus  he  painted  a  little 
p  cture  of  'Puck,'  which  his  solicitor  bought  at  about  a  fourth 
of  its  fair  price;  another  of '  Silenus,'  which  he  sold  for  a  trifle; 
and  another  of  '  Juliet  at  the  Balcony,'  which  his  solicitor  also 
bought  a  bargain.  Perhaps  he  took  it  in  part-payment  of  his 
bill;  though  the  profession  is  not  often  satisfied  with  taking 
"good  will"  for  any  part  of  their  payment:  yet  when  a  painter 
can  do  no  better  they  may  relax— probably  they  make  more 
out  of  him.  At  last  Haydon  got  a  commission  from  a  rich 
City  man  for  a  small  two  hundred  guinea  historical  picture — 
'  Pharaoh  dismissing  Moses' — and  this  at  once  raised  his 
hopes.  I  have  never  seen  the  picture,  but  the  original  sketch, 
in  red  and  black  chalk,  was  long  in  my  portfolio.*  The  com- 
position is  noble,  and  the  story  well  told.  A  group  of  kneeling 
women  in  the  foreground ;  the  queen  and  her  two  daughters 

*  The  lo  s  of  this  orig'nal  t-ketch.  and  of  some  six  hundred  others,  many 
of  them  designs  for  works  he  never  lived  to  paint,  is  a  rational  loss  to  the  art. 
They  vvcie  all  hnrni  d,  with  many  valuable  documents.  and  memoranda  on  Art 
affairs  by  Haydon,  in  the  fire  at  the  Pantechnicon,  1S74.  His  journals,  fortunately, 
were  in  belter  security. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


143 


lifting  up  the  dead  heir  to  the  crown  ;  the  queen-mother 
listening  to  her  boy's  heart  for  a  sign  of  life  ;  the  sisters 
looking  up,  one  imploringly  to  the  king,  the  other  looking 
back  with  horror  at  Moses,  who  points  to  the  dead  child ;  the 
king,  haughty,  but  subdued,  waves  Moses  away ;  while,  in  the 
background,  a  vast  and  furious  crowd  of  Egyptians  tossing  up 
their  dead  children,  are  struggling  against  the  guards  to  get 
into  the  palace.  The  distance  is  dark  and  awful,  the  front  groups 
lighted  by  torches;  the  whole,  full  of  pathos  and  solemnity. 
The  picture  was  finished  by  January,  182b*,  and  was  at  once 
sent  to  the  British  Gallery  for  exhibition. 

At  this  moment  the  proceedings  of  the  Government  with 
regard  to  the  formation  of  a  National  Gallery  of  pictures 
caused  Haydon  much  concern.  He  had  been  prominent,  among 
others,  in  urging  them  into  the  act ;  but  having  adopted  the 
suggestion  of  forming  a  public  gallery  and  having  purchased 
a  collection  of  foreign  works,  they  stopped  short  at  the  pur- 
chase of  works  by  native  artists.  This  was  entirely  opposed 
to  Haydon's  views,  and  to  the  views  of  every  man  of  any  feeling 
for  English  art.  His  picture  off  his  hands,  Haydon  took  up 
this  matter  seriously,  and  appealed  individually  to  ministers 
not  to  persist  in  so  damaging  a  mistake,  but  to  make  our  public 
gallery  truly  " national"  by  also  "purchasing  and  collecting 
the  best  works  of  our  best  English  painters  in  every  depart- 
ment of  the  art,"  and  not  to  confine  the  gallery  to  a  mere 
collection  of  "  foreign  specimens "  by  foreign  artists.  It  is 
difficult  in  these  days  to  understand  how  such  a  mistaken  view 
could  be  taken  by  men  in  authority,  except  on  the  ground  that 
Art  was  the  one  subject  upon  which  our  public  men  knew  least. 
Nor  is  it  easy  to  overrate  the  courage  of  Haydon's  persistence 
in  forcing  this  unpalatable  truth  upon  the  unwilling  attention 
of  the  men  then  in  office.  Finding  ministers  hard  to  move, 
Haydon  petitioned  Parliament  through  Mr.  Ridley  Colborne 
(23rd  February,  1826),  and  in  this  petition,  with  clearness  and 
force  and  some  hidden  sarcasm,  he  points  out  to  the  House  its 
duty,  viz.,  that  our  native  artists  and  their  works  should  be 
made  the  principal  object  of  any  public  effort ;  that  a  National 
Gallery,  in  which  the  purchase  and  display  of  the  best  works 
of  our  native  artists  was  not  made  a  conspicuous  feature,  would 
be  a  public  disappointment  and  injustice,  and  he  calls  upon 
Parliament  to  establish  a  nobler  estimate  of  the  relations 


14? 


MEMOIR  OF 


that  should  exist  between  painter  and  people.  Lastly,  he 
reminds  the  House  that  "the  greatest  statesmen  the  world 
has  ever  seen  have  always  considered  the  arts  an  engine 
not  unworthy  to  be  used  in  advancing  the  commercial  and 
political  greatness  of  a  people."  This  petition  met  too  with 
the  usual  fate. 

By  the  end  of  February,  1826,  Haydon  was  once  more  at 
work  upon  an  ideal  subject,  '  Venus  and  Anchises,'  a  cabinet 
commission  from  Sir  John  Leycester,  who,  on  the  completion 
of  the  picture,  begged  that  it  might  be  sent  to  the  Eoyal 
Academy  exhibition.  Haydon  reluctantly  consented.  It  is 
pleasant  to  be  able  to  say  it  was  well  received  and  well  placed. 
On  the  27th  of  May  he  writes  in  his  journal,  "  My  exhibiting 
with  the  Royal  Academy  has  given  great  satisfaction  to  every- 
body, and  they  seem  to  regard  me  now  without  that  gloomy 
dislike  they  used  to  do.  I  heartily  wish  they  may  become  as 
they  seem,  cordial,  and  that  in  the  end  all  animosities  may  be 
forgotten  in  our  common  desire  to  advance  the  art.  This  is  my 
desire ;  whether  it  be  theirs,  time  only  will  show."  This  is 
frank  and  sincere,  I  believe  ;  but  his  hopes  were  never  realised, 
and  if  time  showed  anything,  it  was  that  the  "Academy"  was 
opposed  to  him  to  the  last.  He  adds  a  day  or  two  after,  "  I 
should  wish  to  do  the  good  I  want  accomplished,  backed  by  the 
Academy ;  but  if  I  cannot,  I  must  make  one  more  attempt  to 
do  it  again  without  them,  and  perhaps  perish  before  I  accom- 
plish it ;  God  only  knows."' 

Meanwhile,  the  promise  of  a  five  hundred  guinea  commission 
for  a  picture  of  '  Alexander  and  Bucephalus'  was  withdrawn  on 
account  of  the  commercial  panic,  and  Haydon  found  the  '  wolf 
once  more  scratching  fiercely  at  his  door.  In  his  agony  where 
to  turn  for  help  to  prevent  another  disaster,  he  wrote  to  Lord 
Egremont,  a  man  noted  for  his  kindness  and  liberality  to  artists. 
Lord  Egremont  went  off  to  Carew,  the  sculptor,  who  lived  in 
the  house  opposite  to  Haydon.*  "  What  bedevilment  has  Haydon 
got  into  now  ?"  "  None,  my  Lord.  He  has  lost  commissions 
he  relied  on,  and  of  course,  having  a  wife  and  five  children,  he 
is  anxious  they  should  not  starve."  "Is  he  extravagant?" 
"  No,"  said  Carew,  "  not  in  the  least ;  he  is  domestic,  economical, 
and  indefatigable."    "  Why  did  he  take  that  house  after  his 

*  Haydon  wns  now  living  nt  the  corner  house  of  Burnood  Place  (tlieu  Yo.  4), 
the  hoiibe  in  which  he  died.— Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


143 


misfortunes?"  "  because  the  light  was  good,  and  ho  is  at  less 
rent  than  in  a  furnished  lodging."  "  Well,  he  shan't  starve. 
But  why  did  he  write  ?  He  has  made  himself  enemies  every- 
where by  his  writing."  Lord  Egremont  came  over  on  the 
14th  of  May,  182b' — the  first  noble  lord  that  had  come  into 
Hay  don's  painting-room  since  his  ruin  in  April,  L23.  He  saw 
the  sketch  of  '  Alexander  and  Bucephalus,'  was  delighted  with 
it,  ordered  it  for  himself,  but  never  thought  of  leaving  the  poor 
painter  a  sixpence,  and  went  home  to  his  ^wn  70,000/.  a  vear 
and  his  dinner  with  the  consciousness  of  having  done  a  good 
action.  It  never  occurred  to  him  to  make  it  better.  At  length, 
in  July,  Haydon's  difficulties  from  want  of  ready  money  became 
so  serious  that  his  arrest  was  imminent.  He  wrote  to  Lord 
Egremont.  I  am  too  pleased  to  be  able  to  say  that  Lord  Egre- 
mont did  not  take  offence.  He  came  up  the  next  day  and  brought 
1007.  with  him  in  advance.  It  was  not  much,  but  it  saved 
Haydon  for  the  time.  In  November  Lord  Egremont  invited 
him  to  Petworth  and  treated  him  with  great  distinction,  which 
would  have  been  very  well  if  Lord  Kgremont  had  combined 
with  it  a  full  understanding  of  the  needs  of  a  poor  man.  For 
instance,  the  picture  was  finished  at  Christmas ,  but  for  sixteen 
days  after  Lord  Egremont  kept  Haydon  without  the  balance 
due,  and  involved  him,  in  consequence,  in  a  mass  of  law-costs, 
writs,  and  executions,  with  three  warrants  of  attorney,  three  cog- 
novits, and  three  actions  at  law.  Indeed,  he  was  only  saved  from 
arrest  and  imprisonment, and  the  seizure  and  sale  of  his  property, 
by  the  prompt  interference  of  his  old  friend,  Sir  Francis 
Freeling.  It  was  mere  want  of  experience  on  the  part  of  Lord 
Egremont,  who  never  in  his  life  had  known  the  want  of  credit, 
or  of  money,  and  could  not  conceive  such  a  condition.  But  this 
did  not  lessen  Haydon's  sufferings,  nor  diminish  his  embarras  i- 
ment.  It  would  be  no  bad  training  for  great  lords,  with  heavy 
rent-rolls,  to  put  them  early  through  a  course  of  want,  poverty, 
and  imprisonment,  that  they  might  gain  experience,  and  ac  pure 
consideration  for  their  penniless  fellow-men  when  in  tb.3  full 
enjoyment  of  their  own  inheritance. 

 "  Take  physic,  pomp ! 

Expose  thyself  to  feel  what  wretches  feel, 
That  thou  may'st  shake  the  supeiflux  to  them, 
And  show  the  Heavens  more  just."' 

The  '  Alexander,'  by  Lord  Egremont's  desire,  was  sent  to  the 

VOL.  L  L 


145 


MEMOIR  OF 


Academy  exhibition  of  1827.  Previous  to  this,  and  during 
182'!,  in  consequence  of  the  pressure  put  upon  him  by  Lord 
Egremont,  Sir  John  Leycester,  Sir  Francis  F reeling,  and  many 
other  friends,  Haydon  had  committed  what  he  afterwards  set 
down  as  "the  disgrace  of  my  life,"  although  I  see  no  dis- 
grace in  it.  He  sought  reconciliation  with  the  Academy. 
They  had  made  him  an  offer  in  1814,  which  he  had  de- 
clined. It  was  now  his  turn,  and  they  paid  him  the  same 
compliment.  He  called  on  the  leading  academicians,  Flax- 
man,  Lawrence,  Shee,  Phillips,  Stothard,  Chantrey,  Cooper, 
Soane,  and  others,  with  the  view  to  effect  a  reconciliation.  He 
has  left  an  amusing  and  characteristic  description  of  his  different 
interviews,  but  which  has  lost  its  chief  interest  now,  although 
the  scene  with  Flaxman  will  bear  repeating. 

"  I  said,  Mr.  Flaxman,  I  wish  to  renew  my  acquaintance 
after  twenty  years'  interval."  Mr.  Haydon,"  said  the  intelli- 
gent deformity,  "  I  am  happy  to  see  you,  walk  in  !  "  "  Mr.  Flax- 
man, Sir.  you  look  well."  "  Sir,  I  am  well,  thanks  to  the  Lord  ! 
I  am  seventy-two,  and  ready  to  go  when  the  Lord  pleases." 

As  he  said  this  there  was  a  look  of  real,  unaffected  piety, 
which  I  hope  and  believe  was  sincere. 

"Ah,  Mr.  Haydon,  Lord  Egremont  is  a  noble  creature." 
"He  is,  Mr.  Flaxman,  he  has  behaved  very  nobly  to  me." 
"Ah,  Mr.  Haydon,  has  he?  How?"  "Why,  Mr.  Flaxman, 
he  has  given  me  a  handsome  commission."  "  Has  he,  Mr. 
Haydon?  I  am  most  happy  to  hear  it — most  bappy — very 
happy."  And  then,  with  an  elevation  of  brow,  and  looking 
askance,  he  said,  "  How  is  your  friend,  Mr.  Wilkie  ?"  "  Why, 
Mr.  Flaxman,  he  is  ill — so  ill  I  fear  he  will  never  again  have 
his  intellects  in  full  vigour."  "  Really,  Mr.  Haydon  ?  why,  it 
is  miserable.  I  suppose  it  is  his  miniature  painting  has 
strained  him,  for  between  you  and  me,  Mr.  Haydon,  'tis  but 
miniature  painting!  you  know,  hem  —  he — m — e — e — em!" 
"  Certainly,  Mr.  Flaxman,  'tis  but  miniature  painting."  "  Ah, 
Mr.  Haydon,  the  world  is  easily  caught."  Here  he  touched 
my  knee  familiarly,  and  leaned  forward,  and  his  old,  deformed, 
humped  shoulder  protruded  as  he  leaned,  and  his  sparkling 
old  eye,  and  his  a'ish  old  mouth,  grinned  on  one  side,  and  he 
rattled  out  of  his  throat,  husky  with  coughing,  a  jarry,  inward, 
hesitating,  hemming  sound,  which  meant  that  Wilkie's  reputa- 
tion was  "  all  my  eye  "  in  comparison  with  ours. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


147 


"  Poor  Fuseli  is  gone,  Sir."  "  Yes,  Sir."  "  Ah,  Mr.  Haydon, 
he  was  a  man  of  genius,  but  I  fear  of  no  principle."  "  Yes, 
Sir."  "He  has  left  behind  him  some  drawings  shockingly 
indelicate."  "  Has  he,  Sir  ?  "  "  Yes,  Mr.  Haydon,  poor  wretch  ! ' 
said  Flaxman,  looking  ineffably  modest.  "  Mr.  Flaxman,  good 
morning."  "Good  morning,  Mr.  Haydon.  I  am  very,  very 
happy  to  see  you,  and  will  call  in  a  few  days." 

With  the  exception  of  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  Cooper,  Stot- 
hard,  and  Flaxman,  he  rates  the  members  of  the  Royal  Academy 
as  intellectually  very  much  below  par.  He  notices  that  in  the 
houses  of  Sir  Martin  Shee  and  Phillips  there  was  not  a  single 
bust  of  antiquity  or  work  of  art  to  be  seen.  Haydon  was  indi- 
vidually well  received,  but  his  "  admission"  was  not  to  be  enter- 
tained. He  was  a  ruined  man ;  he  had  lost  his  influence  over 
"  society,"  and  his  "school"  was  destroyed.  He  was  not  elected 
at  any  succeeding  election.  He  put  down  his  name  for  two 
years  in  succession,  182  J  and  1827,  but  never  received  one 
single  vote. 

During  these  years  Lord  Egremont  seems  to  have  been  still 
the  only  member  of  the  nobility  who  kept  Haydon  in  sight. 
The  season  of  1827  found  him  once  more  without  work, 
painting  the  'Death  of  Eucles'  on  his  own  responsibility. 
Lord  Egremont  called  and  said,  "  I  will  have  the  picture  if 
you  cannot  sell  it."  But  this  was  not  a  real  assistance.  What 
a  man  in  Haydon's  position  wanted  was  constant  employment 
and  prompt  reward.  If  he  did  not  get  this  he  fell  into 
arrears,  and  into  arrears  Haydon  soon  fell  now.  Before  the 
London  season  was  half  through,  he  was  driven  to  extremities 
for  want  of  money ;  law-costs,  writs,  and  execution  followed  in 
rapid  succession.  No  mercy  was  shown  him  by  the  lawyers — 
no  consideration  by  the  nobility.  He  was  like  a  man  buffeting 
in  bondage,  driven  hither  and  thither  for  daily  means  to  meet 
his  daily  wants,  till  at  length  the  catastrophe  came.  He  was 
again  seized  and  thrown  into  prison.  His  debts  amounted  to 
1767Z.  17s.,  of  which  63b7.  were  for  renewed  debts  incurred 
previous  to  1823.  The  moment  he  was  arrested  and  imprisoned, 
his  noble  friends  attended  a  public  meeting,  voted  that  Haydon, 
on  account  of  his  merits  and  distresses,  was  entitled  to  public 
sympathy  and  relief,  and  subscribed  the  magnificent  sum  of 
120Z.  among  themselves,  which  included  50Z.  from  the  Duke  of 
Bedford  and  20/.  from  the  late  Duke  of  Sutherland.  They 

l  2 


148 


MEMOIR  OF 


passed  a  vote  of  thanks  to  the  chairman,  Lord  F.  L.  Gowcr, 
and  broke  up.  Anything  more  absurd  or  unworthy  can  hardly 
be  conceived  of  a  body  of  men  of  such  reputed  wealth.  Here 
was  a  painter,  whose  genius  and  merits  they  all  acknowledged, 
thrown  into  prison  through  their  negligence  and  non-employ- 
ment, for  a  trumpery  debt  of  1700/.,  and  they  cannot  find  more 
than  120Z.  towards  it  among  themselves,  but  must  appeal  to  the 
"  public  "  for  sympathy  and  aid  !  There  must  have  been  truth 
in  what  Lord  Durham  told  Haydon,  that  three-fourths  of  the 
titled  nobility  in  England  are  insolvent. 

The  whole  thing  is  almost  too  ludicrous  to  be  credible. 
Haydon  was  detained  in  prison  for  two  months,  and  then  dis- 
charged. It  was  on  this  occasion  when,  like  Hecuba  of 
Troy,  "almost  run  mad  through  sorrow,*'  he  saw  out  of  his 
prison-window  the  farce  of  a  "mock  election"  of  two  M.P.'s 
for  the  King's  Bench,  being  played  by  imprisoned  debtors. 
Life  is  the  same  everywhere.  "  Vous  ne  pouvez  vous  imaginer 
l'horreur  d'un  naufrage.  Vous  en  pouvez  imaginer  aussi  peu 
le  ridicule."  Haydon  looked  and  laughed  in  spite  of  his 
misery.  He  eyed  the  faces,  and,  struck  by  the  character 
shewn,  resolved  to  paint  the  scene  the  moment  he  was  free. 
Of  course,  when  he  came  out  of  prison  he  found  no  work 
waiting  for  him.  rl  hat  was  the  last  thing  the  nobility  thought 
of.  The  only  commission  he  got  was  from  one  of  his  own 
tradesmen,  to  copy  a  head  from  a  miniature !  He  remarks 
upon  this,  "  To  think  that,  at  forty-two  years  of  age,  in 
the  very  zenith  of  my  powers,  and  after  painting  the  head 
of  'Lazarus,'  I  should  be  compelled  to  do  this  for  my  bread  ! 
The  nobility  do  not  care  about  my  talents,  and  would  rather 
not  be  cursed  with  anyone  who  has  the  power  in  a  style  of 
art  they  do  not  comprehend,  and  wish  not  to  encourage  because 
they  do  not  comprehend  it." 

In  five  months,  by  the  generous  assistance  of  those  personal 
friends,  Strutt,  Talfourd,  whose  portrait  he  painted,  Burn,  and 
a  few  others  who  never  left  him,  he  finished  the  cabinet 
picture  of  the  'Mock  Election,'  and  exhibited  it  at  the 
Egyptian  Hall  in  January  1828.  The  exhibition  was  a  fair 
success,  but  no  one  offered  to  buy  the  picture.  Haydcn  be- 
came depressed.  "I  cannot  pray  now  to  the  great  God  to  aid 
and  help  and  foster  me  in  my  attempts  for  the  honour  of  my 
great  country,  for  I  am  making  no  attempt  at  all.    I  am  doing 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


149 


only  that  which  will  procure  me  subsistence,  and  gratify  the 
love  of  novelty,  or  pander  to  the  prejudices  of  rny  countrymen  ; 
even  that  does  not  succeed.  I  have  not  sold  the  '  Mock 
Election.'  I  have  no  orders,  no  commissions.  The  exhibition 
of  the  picture  gets  me  a  bare  subsistence,  and  that  is  all. 

'  Non  sum  qualis  eram.' 

"  I  begin  at  last  to  long  to  go  abroad,  family  and  all." 

After  a  few  days'  low  spirits,  he  began  a  fresh  picture, 
'Chairing  the  Member,'  as  a  companion  to  the  '  Mock  Elec- 
tion.' In  March  the  Court  came  to  town,  and  the  King, 
having  inquired  of  Sir  Thomas  Hammond  about  the  '  Mock 
Election,'  and  been  told  that  it  was  full  of  remarkable  portraits 
and  would  please  him,  sent  Seguier  for  it.  Anything  that  had 
a  spice  of  vice  in  it  the  King  relished.  Haydon  who  took  down 
the  picture  to  St.  James's  Palace,  was  adroitly  kept  by  Seguier 
out  of  the  way  of  the  King,  who  wished  to  see  him  as  much 
as  the  picture — so  Sir  Thomas  Hammond  told  me — and  after 
a  careful  inspection,  the  King,  who  showed  the  greatest  in- 
terest, declared  it  "a  d— d  fine  thing,"  commanded  it  to  be  left 
with  him,  and  sent  Haydon  50 J  guineas  three  days  after- 
wards.* 

This  act  of  the  King  was  not  matched  by  any  member  of 
the  nobility,  and  before  the  end  of  the  year  Haydon  was  com- 
pelled to  sell  the  companion  picture  for  half  its  price  to  a 
private  gentleman  (who  could  not  afford  to  pay  him  for  six 

*  In  the  right-hand  corner  of  the  picture  is  the  portrait  of  a  Major  Campbell, 
a  man  who  greatly  distinguished  him*  If  in  the  Peninsula  War.  He  was  im- 
prisoned by  Lord  Eldon  for  contempt  of  Court.  He  ran  away  with  a  ward  in 
Chancery,  and  on  Lord  Eldon  saying  it  was  "  disgraceful  ladies  of  birth  should 
be  entrapped  by  men  of  low  familv,"  Campbell,  who  was  a  man  of  good  family, 
hurled  back  the  insult  in  words  the  Chancellor  never  forgot  or  forgave.  Mv 
Lord,"  said  Campbell,  "  my  familv  are  ancient  and  opulent,  and  were  neither 
coalheavers  nor  eoalheavers'  nephews,"  alluding  to  Lord  Eldon's  origin.  Lord 
Eldon  committed  him  to  prison  on  the  spot,  and  refused  to  accept  anv  apology. 
Campbell  remained,  I  believe,  thirteen  years  a  prisoner.  When  Lord  Brougham 
came  to  the  woolsack,  in  1831  Campbell  was  released  on  special  petition  by  his 
friends. 

The  King,  in  1828,  was  deeply  interested  in  all  this,  which  he  learned  from 
Haydon  through  Lord  M  m  it  C.iarles.  and  seat  Sir  Edward  Birncs  d  »wn  to  the 
Bench,  to  command  Campbell  to  state  his  services  and  his  wishes,  and  they 
should  be  gratified.  Campbell  was  too  proud  to  reply,  refused  to  make  any 
statement  or  application,  mid  remained  in  prison.  Havdou  describes  him  as 
haying  one  of  the  grainiest  Satanic  heads,  a  combination  of  Byron  and  Bonaparte, 
he  ever  met  with.  I  can  just  remember  htm  ;  he  came  after  his  release  (1834) 
to  see  us,  and  sit  for  his  portr  .it. — Ed. 


MEMOIR  OF 


months).  The  great  lords  and  their  ladies  came  to  its  exhibi- 
tion and  looked.  Some  of  them,  the  Duke  of  Bedford  for 
instance,  admired  it  exceedingly,  but  no  one  of  them  would 
buy  it,  or  recommend  it  to  the  notice  of  the  King. 

The  new  year,  182. »,  Haydon  opened  with  a  temperate 
pamphlet  in  favour  of  "  Public  Patronage  for  Painting."  He 
had  some  correspondence  with  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  then 
Prime  Minister,  on  the  subject,  and,  in  compliance  with  the 
Duke's  request,  laid  before  him  a  detailed  plan  for  the  decora- 
tion of  the  Houses  of  Parliament.  The  Duke,  in  reply,  assured 
Haydon  that  imprimis  he  "must  object  to  the  grant  of  any 
public  money  for  the  object."  Haydon  then  consulted  Mr. 
Agar  Ellis,  who  promises  to  bring  the  matter  before  Parliament 
when  he  sees  a  "  favourable  "  opportunity,  and  urges  Ha\  don 
to  "  continue  his  pamphlets  every  year,"  so  as  to  keep  the  subject 
before  the  public.  This  was  not  very  encouraging,  so  Haydon 
turned  to  his  palette  once  more,  and  worked  hard  upon  two 
pictures,  '  Eucles '  and  '  Punch,'  and  before  the  end  of  the  year 
had  begun  another,  '  Xenophon  and  the  Ten  Thousand  first 
seeing  the  Sea,'  and  had  painted  and  engraved  a  little  sketch 
of  '  .Napoleon  at  St.  Helena.' 

In  January,  1830,  Haydon  was  much  affected  by  the  death 
of  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  the  President  of  the  Koyal  Academy, 
and  by  the  ele  tion  of  (Sir  Martin  Archer)  Shee  as  his  suc- 
cessor, in  preference  to  Wilkie. 

The  academicians  probably  had  their  reasons  for  this  pre- 
ference, but  Haydon  refused  to  admit  them.  He  felt  such 
an  election  as  an  abuse  of  the  power  he  had  so  long  de- 
sired to  see  docked.  The  idea  to  him  was  preposterous, 
that  a  man  like  David  Wilkie,  though  not  a  painter  of 
history,  yet  a  man  of  acknowledged  genius  and  European 
reputation,  should  be  put  in  momentary  competition,  still  more 
in  a  position  of  permanent  inferiority  to  a  portrait  painter  of 
the  second  order,  "  an  accomplished  gentleman  naebo.Iy  ever 
haird  on,"  as  Sir  Walter  Scott  described  the  new  President. 
It  drew  from  Haydon  a  burst  of  honest  indignation,  and  brought 
him  and  Wilkie  more  closely  together — they  had  been  some- 
what estranged  since  Haydon's  marriage — for  the  rest  of  their 
1  ves.  Wilkie  began  to  see  at  last  what  Haydon  had  seen  from 
the  first,  that  humility  and  forbearance  never  meet  with  a 
fair  return  from  men  of  mean  minds.    By  such  men  you  may 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


do  your  duty,  and  more  than  your  duty,  but  they  w.'ll  turn 
upon  you  at  the  last,  and  when  their  "  eyesight  returns,"  as 
Carlyle  says,  "fling  you  out  like  common  sweepings."* 

This  election  disposed  of,  Haydon,  by  the  help  of  his  good 
friend  Joseph  Strutt,  finished  in  the  early  part  of  1830  the  two 
small  five  hundred  guinea  pictures  '  Eucles'  and  '  Punch,'  and 
exhibited  them.  He  raffled  the  first,  which  the  nobility  did 
not  approve  of ;  they  considered  it  a  reflection  on  their 
"  patronage."  But  as  they  did  not  offer  to  buy  it,  I  do  not  see 
the  force  of  their  objection.  There  are  people  in  the  world 
who  ore  never  satisfied.  The  '  Punch  '  Haydon  hoped  to  sell 
to  the  King,  but  he  did  not  succeed.  The  King  commanded  it 
to  be  sent  down  to  him  at  Windsor,  admired  it,  and  sent  it  back. 
This  was  such  an  extraordinary  proceeding,  Haydon  felt  sure 
something  was  "  wrong."  He  wrote  to  Lady  Conyngham  and 
to  Lord  Mount  Charles,  learned  that  the  King  was  offended, 
but  no  explanation  was  possible. 

Years  after,  1  learned  the  truth  from  Sir  Thomas  Hammond. 
He  told  me  that  he  remembered  the  whole  circumstance  per- 
fectly. The  King  was  greatly  interested  in  Haydon  from  his 
picture  of  the  '  Mock  Election,'  and  from  hearing  his  history. 
On  seeing  or  being  told  of  this  exhibition  of  two  fresh  pictures 
by  Haydon,  Mr.  Seguier  was  sent  up  to  London  with  orders  to 
bring  both  pictures  down  to  Windsor  that  the  King  might 
choose  one  or  both.  Seguier,  it  appears,  was  fearful  if  Haydon 
once  got  to  the  King  he  would  so  interest  his  Majesty  that 

*  The  defence  put  forward  by  Tom  Taylor  in  Haydon's  Autobiography,  in 
support  of  this  election  of  Sir  Martin  Slice  over  Wilkie,  is  the  common  defence 
on  such  occasions,  viz.,  that  the  man  is  most  wanted  and  not  his  profession.  I 
fail  to  see  the  force  of  this.  "  Eloquence  "  and  personal  aeoeptabhness  "  may  bo 
valuable  qualities  in  the  President  of  a  Eoyal  Academy  of  Art;  but  not  quite 
to  important  as  professional  knowledge.  "  In  a  painter,"  snys  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds, 
"it  is  particularly  dangerous  to  be  too  good  a  speaker.  It  lessens  (he  neeessaiy 
endeavours  to  make  himself  master  of  the  language  which  properly  belongs  to 
his  art,  that  of  his  pencil."  This  was  exactly  the  complaint  under  which  Sir 
Martin  Shee  too  notoriously  suffered.  To  elect  a  man  President  of  an  Academy 
of  Art,  not  because  he  is  master  of  his  art,  but  because  he  has  the  gift  of  volu- 
bility, and  that  without  knowledge  of  his  art,  is  to  say  that  you  prefer  a  blunder- 
buss to  a  rirle  for  close  shooting.  The  foundation  of  eligibility  of  a  candidate  for 
the  Presidency  of  an  Academy  of  any  special  art  should  always  be  his  know- 
ledge of  that  art.  That  should  be  the  basis.  Upon  that  you  may  superadd  what 
qualifications  you  please,  but  if  high  knowledge  of  his  art  and  power  to  display  it 
be  not  there,  the  man  is  deficient  and  has  not  the  first  claim.  It  is  like  iho 
champagne  cup  Macaulay  speaks  of,  you  may  flavour  it  with  what  you  like,  but 
tue  basis  must  be  champagne. — Ed. 


152 


MEMOIR  OF 


Seguier's  own  position  about  the  person  of  the  Sovereign  would 
be  in  peril,  and  he  resolved  to  prevent  any  misfortune  of  this 
kind.  This  was  the  General's  own  inference,  drawn  from  what 
he  had  seen  at  the  time  and  subsequently  heard.  It  is  possible 
also  that  Seguier,  who  was  closely  allied  to  and  in  the  interest 
of  the  Academy,  had  other  reasons  for  keeping  Haydon's 
influence  out  of  Court.  In  any  case  Mr.  Seguier  came  up  to 
London  in  obedience  to  the  King's  command,  called  in  at  the 
exhibition,  admired  the  pictures  greatly  to  Haydon,  but  said 
not  a  word  of  the  commands  of  the  King.  He  returned  to 
Windsor  Castle  that  evening  and  told  the  King,  as  if  the  reply 
was  from  Haydon,  that  the  '  Eucles '  was  engaged  to  be  raffled 
for  and  was  not  for  sale,  and  to  remove  the  '  Punch '  from  the 
exhibition  would  offend  the  public ! 

This  was  an  audacious  statement  to  make  under  all  the 
circumstances  ;  but  it  was  evidently  ma  'e  with  the  design  of 
putting  the  King  off  by  disgusting  him.  What  then  nrm«t 
have  been  Seguier's  perplexity  when  the  King  said  pettishly, 
"  Well,  at  all  events,  he  can  let  me  have  one  of  them  from 
to-morrow  till  Monday,  when  I  promise  it  shall  be  returned," 
and  with  this,  it  is  evident,  the  King  suppressed  all  inten- 
tion of  purchase.  Mr.  Seguier  came  back  to  London  the  same 
night  (5th  March),  told  Haydon  the  King  wished  to  see 
'Punch'  in  such  a  way  as  to  lead  Haydon  to  believe  this 
honour  was  due  to  Seguier's  friendly  action.  The  'Punch' 
was  taken  to  Windsor  early  the  next  morning,  and  the  King 
admired  it  exceedingly,  Sir  Thomas  Hammond  told  me. 
Seguier  told  Haydon  the  King  was  not  wholly  pleased  with  it, 
and  on  the  8th  Seguier  brought  it  back  to  the  exhibition. 
And  thus  it  came  to  pass  the  King  did  not  purchase  the  picture, 
and  what  was  worse,  the  story  getting  about  the  King  had 
rejected  it,  no  one  would  buy.  Haydon  could  find  a  buyer  in 
no  quarter,  and  was  glad  enough  at  last  to  mortgage  it  for 
lOUl.  to  a  private  friend* 

*  Ilavdon  attributes  Seguier's  conduct  to  the  influence  of  the  aeadom'eia'is. 
and  be  may  have  b  in  right,  or  he  may  have  been  wrong.  It  is  possible  that  a 
man  of  his  vivid  imagination  might  mistake  the  real  meaning  of  others,  that 
then-  persecution  of  him  was  not  quite  so  tiery  as  he  supposed,  and  that  when  ho 
saw  or  thought  he  saw  academicians  rejoicing  over  his  reverses  and  disappoint- 
incuts,  like  toe  wicked  spirits  plunging  Filippo  Argon ti  into  the  foul  lake,  they 
were  doing  nothing  but  lamenting  his  misfortunes.  Yet  I  am  bound  to  say  there 
isn  >  proof  of  this  sympathy  extant;  not  a  word  of  kindness  or  regret  ever  comes 
from  any  one  of  them  b  it  Wilkic.  It  there  had  been,  I  feel  sure  Haydon  would 
have  preserved  it,  he  was  so  grateful  for  kind  words.— Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


This  is  the  picture  which  wag  such  a  favourite  with  Wilkie. 
"  I  have  seen  and  heard  him,"  wrote  Dr.  Darling  in  1852,  "  pass 
his  hand  over  the  left  portion,  exclaiming,  '  How  fine,  how 
very  fine  !  if  that  picture  were  in  Italy  you  would  see  it 
surrounded  by  students  from  all  parts  of  Europe  engaged  in 
copying.' "  * 

In  England  Haydon  could  not  sell  it.  From  this  cause  we 
may  be  prepared  for  the  inevitable  result.  Haydon  fell  into 
arrears  with  his  tradesmen,  and,  as  they  made  use  of  the  law  of 
arrest  as  a  means  of  profit  for  their  sons,  who  were  commonly 
their  attorneys,  cumulative  law  costs  followed  rapidly.  To  one 
man,  I  find,  on  an  account  of  1U7.  odd  he  pays  11/.  law  costs;  to 
another,  on  an  account  of  67.  he  pays  18/.  law  costs,  and  on  several 
other  small  accounts,  amounting  to  some  14U/.,  I  find  the  law 
expenses  reaching  to  9b/.  His  current  debts  were  trifling. 
What  embarrassed  him  were  these  law  costs,  and  his  current 
debts  he  could  not  pay  promptly  because  he  was  depending 
upon  employment  that  came  to  him  with  a  niggard  hand, 
or  upon  payment  that  came  to  him  from  a  forgetful  one. 

As  soon  as  the  London  season  of  1 830  fairly  began,  Haydon, 
as  usual,  was  arrested  and  thrown  into  prison.  Among  other 
claims  on  him  this  time  was  one  for  arrears  of  taxes,  upon 
which  the  Comnvssioners  of  Inland  Revenue  were  piling  up 
"  law  costs  "  like  the  rest.  In  his  extremity  Haydon  wrote  to 
the  late  Sir  Robert  Peel,  then  at  the  Home  Office,  to  beg  his 
official  influence  with  the  Treasury,  to  at  least  stay  these  pro- 
ceedings, and  he  would  discharge  his  taxes  as  soon  as  he  could 
get  employment.  Sir  Robert  Peel  answered  promptly,  en- 
closing Haydon  a  small  cheque  (10/.)  for  his  present  necess  ties, 
and  taking  official  steps  to  moderate  the  severity  of  the  Inland 
Commissioners.  This  was  Haydon's  first  introduction  to  Sir 
Robert  Peel. 

Haydon  was  detained  in  prison  the  usual  three  months, 
May,  June,  and  July,  of  the  London  season.  It  is  as  if  his 
creditors  took  a  malicious  delight  in  periodically  exhibiting 
the  great  historical  painter  in  prison  every  season,  as  an 
illustration  of  the  liberal  patronage  the  nobility  accorded  to 
historic  art.  They  forgot,  however,  that  they  deprived  the 
painter  of  the  best  painting  months  of  the  year,  and  thus  ren- 

*  It  wis  bequeathed  by  Dr.  Darling  to  the  National  Gallery.  It  is  tempo- 
rarily liuug  at  South  Ko.ismgtou. — Ed. 


154 


MEMOIR  OF 


dercd  the  payment  of  their  petty  claims  more  problematical 
than  before.  But  then  they  always  got  their  law  costs. 
During  his  imprisonment  Haydon,  through  Mr.  Agar  Ellis, 
again  petitioned  Parliament,  entreating  the  House  at  least  to 
adopt  some  scheme,  "  in  its  infinite  wisdom,"  which  should  save 
the  future  historical  painters  of  England — where  are  they? — 
from  the  degrading  fate  which  had  overtaken  him,  by  pro- 
viding for  them  public  employment.  The  petition  was  ordered 
to  "  lie  on  the  table." 

On  coming  out  of  prison  in  July  the  usual  blank  met 
Haydon ;  there  was  no  employment  for  him  from  any  quarter. 
By  September  he  was  again  falling  into  difficulties.  He  had 
no  commissions,  and  he  appealed  to  Sir  Robert  Peel  (Sth  Sep- 
tember) to  use  his  influence  with  the  directors  of  the  British 
Gallery  to  induce  them  to  give  him  a  commission.  Ho  might 
as  well  have  applied  to  a  Board  of  Guardians  for  a  commission. 
"  If  I  am  suffered  again,"  he  writes,  "  to  sink  into  debt  from  want 
of  employment,  and  there  is  no  other  employment  in  England 
for  historical  painters  than  that  whuh  patrons  like  yourself 
bestow  upon  us,  I  shall  go  down  to  my  grave  with  what 
powers  I  may  possess  rendered  nugatory  by  disappointment, 
fretted  by  ruin,  and  blasted  by  neglect.  Alas !  if  I  deserved 
assistance  when  in  affliction,  do  I  not  deserve  employment  that 
affliction  may  no  more  come?" 

Sir  Robert  Peel,  who  was  a  warm  supporter  of  the  Royal 
Academy,  replied,  on  the  10th  September,  and  coldly  requested 
that  "  any  communication  Mr.  Haydon  may  wish  to  make  to  the 
directors  of  1  he  British  Gallery  may  be  made  to  them  directly 
by  Mr.  Haydon." 

Failing  here,  he  struggled  for  a  few  weeks,  and  at  length  in 
an  agony  of  pressure  he  writes  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington, 
(12th  October,)  calling  his  attention  to  the  recent  report  of 
M.  Guizot  to  the  newly  elected  king  of  the  French,  recom- 
mending the  king  to  employ  the  French  historical  painters  on 
a  series  of  national  pictures  in  commemoration  of  the  "  Three 
Days,"  and  he  asks  the  Duke,  as  Prune  Minister,  if  he  can 
find  nothing  in  the  History  of  England  worthy  the  public 
employment  of  our  painters  of  history  ?  The  duke  replied  the 
same  afternoon  kindly  and  courteously,  regretting  there  were 
no  funds  for  such  a  purpose,  and  adding  that  he  is  "  much  con- 
cerned "  he  cannot  point  out  the  mode  in  which  this  want  of 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


'5? 


encouragement  can  be  remedied.  Hay  don  replied  on  the 
14th  in  a  sad  letter,  that  lays  open  to  us  the  condition  of  his 
mind.  He  describes  his  life  and  labours  and  his  actual 
position  to  the  duke.  Then  he  adds,  "  This  perpetual  pau- 
perism will  in  the  end  destroy  my  mind.  I  look  around  for 
help  with  a  feeling  of  despair  that  is  quite  dreadful.  At  this 
moment  I  have  a  sick  house  without  a  shilling  for  the  common 
necessaries  of  life.  My  want  of  employment  and  want  of 
means  exhaust  the  patience  of  my  dearest  friends,  and  give 
me  a  feeling  as  if  I  were  branded  with  a  curse.  For  God's 
sake,  for  the  sake  of  my  family,  for  the  sake  of  the  historical 
art  I  have  struggled  to  save,  permit  me,  my  Lord  Duke,  to 
say,  employ  me." 

This  is  the  most  melancholy  letter  I  ever  remember  to 
have  read.  It  is  impossible  to  read  it  and  not  feel  deeply. 
rJ  he  Duke,  I  regret  to  say,  never  replied.  Perhaps,  as  he 
sat  behind  his  iron  blinds,  he  felt  a  certain  touch  of  scorn  for 
the  man  who  could  make  such  a  fuss  over  being  starved.* 

Jn  a  few  days,  Haydon  appealed  again  to  the  Duke  for 
public  employment,  and  received  for  answer  an  assurance  that 
Haydon's  "  own  good  sense  must  po:nt  out  how  impossible  "  it 
was  for  the  Duke  to  comply  with  the  request.  The  result 
amounted,  in  fact,  to  the  uncle's  advice  to  his  starving  nephew  : 
"You  say  you  are  without  money  or  employment;  I  cannot 

*  Ten  years  after,  finding  Hayilon  still  alive,  a>id  with  a  strong  appetite,  he 
asked  him  down  to  Walimr,  fed  him  well,  and  having  learned  that  lie  had  made 
a  fine  copy  sketch  of  the  Duke's  horse  '  Copenhagen,'  the  Duke  waited  patiently 
for  Haydon's  death.  Then  bis  Grace  sent  up  to  Haydon's  sale  and  bought 
1he  Copeuhag<  n  sketch  for  a  couple  of  sovereigns.  This  was  all  the  art  patronage 
he  ever  bestowed  upon  Haydon.  It  is  all  of  a  piece  with  the  Duke,  sending  up 
to  us  for  his  "  hat"  the  morning  Haydon's  death  appeared  in  the  'Times,'  with 
his  allowing  himself  to  be  sued  for  his  (Chancellor's)  silk  gown  at  Oxford  before 
they  could  get  the  money,  and  the  exact  repetition  of  what  he  did  with  Fuseli. 
He  would  not  give  Fuseli,  living,  a  commission ;  but  directly  Fuseli  died,  he 
sent  up  to  his  sale  and  bought  lor  a  trifle  that  g  gantic  picture  of  'Satan  and 
his  Angels,'  which  used  to  hang  on  the  stairea-e  at  Stiathtieldsaye. 

The  Duke.  I  presume,  enjoyed  little  '•  gains,"  and  he  rated  art  no  higher  than 
he  rated  cabbages,  with  which  he  used  to  plant  the  moat  at  Walmer  and  sell  to 
his  neighbours  in  Deal,  on  the  plea  that  there  were  no  market  gardens  near,  and 
then  pay  his  gardener's  wages  with  the  money.  As  good,  in  its  way,  as  his  great 
predecessor  Marlborough  teasing  D,  an  Jones  to  pay  him  the  sixpence  the  Dean 
hml  lost  to  him  at  cards,  on  the  excuse  he  had  no  change,  and  wanted  to  pay  the 
"chair"  to  take  him  home,  and  then  walking  home  with  the  Dean's  sixpence  in 
h-s  pocket!  These  are  the  foibles  of  genius.  But  as  a  set-oil  (in  the  Duke  of 
Wellington's  case),  we  know  that  in  the  \ear  Alexander  s  bank  tailed,  the  Duke 
gave  away  at  h  ast  6000/.  in  bank  notes  to  military  men.  The  poor  painters  he 
left  to  his  brother  dukes,  who  I  ad  not  so  many  claims  upon  them  as  he.  Dut  he 
need  not  have  sent  to  us  at  such  a  moment  as  he  did  for  an  old  hat. — Ed. 


56 


MEMOIR  OF 


help  you  to  e'ther.  But  your  own  good  sense  will  tell  you 
what  to  do.  Stick  to  your  profession,  and  live  within  your 
means." 

Blest  as  he  was  with  that  pecul'ar  faculty  of  genius  for  over- 
coming difficulties,  Haydon  might  have  found  life  tame  with- 
out them.  I  remember  his  once  saying  that  he  was  not 
quite  sure  he  did  not  "relish  ruin  as  a  source  of  increased 
activity  of  nrnd."  This  was,  of  course,  only  an  exaggerated 
mode  of  expressing  his  vivid  sense  of  the  warm  vitality 
with  n  him,  with  his  pulse  at  85.  Perhaps,  too,  he  thought 
it  good  for  men  "  to  love  their  present  pains,"  so  the  "  spirit 
is  eased."  But  all  1  contend  for  is  that  there  was  no 
necessity  for  his  pains  being  made  so  severe,  and  that  the 
nation  would  have  profited  had  a  more  generous  policy  been 
pursued  towards  him. 

On  the  3rd  November  he  writes  a  melancholy  letter  of 
appeal  to  the  Directors  of  the  British  Gallery,  points  out  that, 
for  the  sake  of  art,  he  had  abandoned  a  tine  property  and  a  hand- 
some income,  that  he  has  been  twenty-six  years  in  the  art  as 
historical  painter,  that  he  has  no  property  but  the  clothes  he 
wears,  that  out  of  the  14,000?.  the  British  Gallery  has  given 
in  premiums  in  that  time,  he  has  received  200/.,  and  out  of 
the  75,O00Z  the  directors  had  expended  on  the  purchase  of 
pictures,  he  has  received  6  1.  That  was  all  the  encouragement 
the  noble  directors  had  afforded  him  as  an  English  historical 
painter.  On  tli3  11th,  the  noble  directors  desired  a  cheque  for 
507.  to  be  enclosed  to  him,  but  they  did  not  offer  to  buy  any 
picture,  nor  give  him  a  commission. 

It  was  during  this  period  that  offers  of  large  prices  were  made 
to  Haydon  if  he  would  consent  to  paint  voluptuous  nudities  for 
a  distinguished  Marquis.  There  are  many  ways,  as  the  late  Mr. 
Croker  could  tell,  of  avoiding  chronic  insolvency  in  this  rich 
and  respectable  country.  But  Haydon  preferred  to  die  of 
starvation,  children  and  all,  rather  than  consent  to  disgrace  his 
pencil.  The  "  frigid  villany  of  studied  lewdness "  he  left  to 
those  who  liked  it;  he  knew  a  higher  use  for  his  art;  and 
so  he  walked  about  the  streets  in  preference,  selling  his  little 
prints  of  'Napoleon,' — to  such  extremities  had  his  art  now 
reduced  him. 

At  length,  on  the  evening  of  the  8th  December,  a  gentleman 
called,  and  was  shown  into  the  painting-room.  Haydon  came  up 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


'57 


and  found  Sir  Kobert  Peel.  A  personal  visit  from  such  a  friend 
and  supporter  of  the  Royal  Academy,  and  a  man  so  distin- 
guished for  his  taste  in  art,  gave  Hay  don  the  greatest  satisfac- 
tion at  the  moment.  It  led  to  the  heaviest  misfortunes  of  his 
life,  and  unquestionably  brought  him  to  his  bloody  grave. 

Of  Sir  Robert  Peel's  motive  in  calling  there  can  be  no  ques- 
tion ;  it  was  a  good  and  kindly  one.  1  have  reason  to  believe 
that  he  had  inquired  into  Hay  don's  history,  that  he  considered 
him  an  ill-used  man,  and  came  for  the  express  purpose  of  try- 
ing to  persuade  him  either  to  devote  himself  to  portrait,  so  as 
in  time  to  fill  the  vacant  place  of  Lawrence,  or  else  to  give 
him  an  opportunity  of  painting  a  poetic  picture  that  should 
be  suitable  in  size  and  subject  for  a  private  gallery,  so  as  to 
induce  the  nobility  and  patrons  to  give  him  employment. 
Soon  after  he  entered  the  painting-room,  my  father  has  often 
told  me  that  Sir  Kobert  spoke  of  the  death  of  Sir  '1  homas 
Lawrence,  and  said  what  an  opening  his  death  had  left  for  a 
portrait  painter ;  this  led  to  some  conversation  on  his  merits. 
Then  Haydon  showed  Sir  Robert  his  casts  from  the  Elgin 
Marbles.  Sir  Pvobert  made  a  remark  which  displayed  a  curious 
ignorance  of  art  and  nature.  Then,  coming  back  to  his  first 
intention,  he  asked  Haydon  if  he  had  any  portraits  to  show ; 
Haydon  showed  him  two.  Then  Sir  Robert  asked  his  price 
for  a  whole-length  portrait ;  Haydon  replied  100  guineas. 
Now,  it  happened  that  lying  on  the  table  or  on  a  chair  was  the 
sketch  of  '  Napoleon  Musing  on  the  Rocks  at  St.  Helena,' 
which  Haydon  had  painted  and  engraved  the  year  previous. 
Sir  Robert,  who  had  seen  and  knew  the  engraving  b<  f  >re 
calling  upon  Haydon,  looked  at  this  sketch,  said  suddenly, 
"  Paint  me  a  Napoleon,"  but  he  mentioned  no  price,  nor 
asked  for  one,  and  shortly  after  took  his  leave.  There  was  no 
reference  of  any  kind  to  the  price  of  a  '  Napoleon ; '  *  my 

*  Mr.  R.  Redgrave,  R.A.,  in  his  '  Century  of  Painters '  (p.  190),  says  of  this 
incident,  '•  having  named  what  we  should  think  a  liberal  price,  he  offended  the 
minister  by  expressing  dis.-ai  inaction  on  being  paid  the  sum  he  had  name  d." 
This  is  singularly  incorrect.  Haydon  never  did  "  name  "  a  price  for  the  'Napo- 
leon.' The  price  he  named,  viz.,  one  hundred  guineas,  had  reference  only 
and  was  mount  by  him  to  have  reference  only  to  a  portrait  of  a  living  sitter.  And 
that  price,  one  hundred  guineas,  was  moderate  enough,  even  Mr.  Redgrave  will 
allow  for  four  weeks'  work,  about  the  time  such  a  portrait  would  occupy.  If  Mr. 
Redgrave  thinks  one  hundred  guineas  sufficient  r<  numeration  for  four  months' 
work,  the  time  the  'Napoleon'  picture  actually  took  Haydon  to  paint,  I  can  only 
eay  I  si  all  be  very  happy  to  employ  Mr.  Redgrave  at  that  lale  for  works  of 
similar  meiit. — Ed. 


i58 


MEMOIR  OF 


father  has  often  assured  me.  After  Sir  Robert  had  left, 
Haydon  was  detailing  what  had  passed  to  his  wife,  when,  with 
a  woman's  quickness,  she  asked  if  any  price  was  named.  My 
father  said  "  No."  Then  said  my  mother,  "  You  may  depend 
upon  it,  he  means  you  to  paint  the  picture  for  100  guineas. 
You  had  better  write  and  explain."  This  was  a  serious  matter. 
For  an  ordinary  full-length  portrait  of  a  living  sitter,  1U0 
guineas  was  little  enough ;  but  for  a  life-sized  historic  por- 
trait, a  poetic  picture  such  as  '  Napoleon  Musing  at  St.  Helena ' 
must  be  made,  the  picture  could  not  be  painted  for  the  money. 
It  would  take  at  least  four  months  to  think  out  and  paint,  and 
would  cost  300Z.  in  time  and  material  at  the  lowest  estimate. 
Its  current  price  was  5u0  guineas;  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence 
would  have  insisted  on  800  guineas.  The  situation  afforded 
another  striking  instance  of  the  inconvenience  (or  convenience, 
from  the  puivhaser's  point  of  view)  of  not  having  "  a  clear 
understanding." 

Haydon  objected  to  write,  for  fear  it  should  look  like  an 
attempt  to  "  raise "  his  price  upon  "  Sir  Robert  reel,"  and 
there  was  something  high-minded  in  the  objection.  He  re- 
solved, therefore,  to  paint  the  picture  to  the  best  of  his  ability, 
to  place  it  in  the  hands  of  Sir  Robert  Peel,  and  then  state  the 
facts,  leaving  Sir  Robert  to  deal  with  them  as  he  thought  fit. 
This  was  the  noble  course  to  take ;  but  it  had  more  than  one 
defect.  Sir  Robert  Peel  might  demur,  and  if  Sir  Robert  Peel 
did  not,  from  his  point  of  view,  feel  himself  bound  to  deal  with 
it  as  Haydon  had  settled  in  his  mind  Sir  Robert  ought, 
Haydon  would  not  with  patience  accept  Sir  Robert's  decision, 
and  vice  versa.  The  best  course  would  have  been  to  offer  to 
refer  the  matter  to  arbitration  ;  but  this,  unhappily,  was  not 
done  by  Sir  Robert  Peel.  The  commission  was  given  on  the 
8th  December,  1830,  and  the  picture  was  finished  by  the  fol- 
lowing April.  It  is  a  beautiful  conception.  Napoleon  stands 
on  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  with  his  back  partly  towards  you, 
arms  folded,  head  slightly  bent,  gazing  out  upon  the  vast 
breadth  of  sea  that  rolls  between  him  and  Europe.  The  dying 
glow  of  the  setting  sun  lights  his  profile,  the  sails  of  the 
guard-ship  glitter  in  the  distance,  and  nothing  but  the  One 
Man,  the  rocks,  the  sky,  the  water,  is  there.  All  that  ever 
happened  in  his  life  of  romance,  of  poetry,  of  misfortune,  is 
before  you. 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


iS9 


Ono  hundred  guineas !  The  picture  was  a  bargain  at  a 
thousand.* 

Haydon  sent  down  the  work  to  Drayton,  and  with  it  went 
the  dreaded  explanation.  He  was  not  generally  a  timid  man, 
but  he  had  a  keen  eye  for  character.  The  bleak  manners  of 
Sir  Robert  Peel  had  affected  him.  However,  he  wrote  frankly, 
and  told  him  the  plain  truth.  This  was  a  fatal  mistake.  It  is 
an  act  of  "  inexcusable  weakness,"  says  Hazlitt,  to  lay  your 
heart  open  to  a  man  who  is  reserved  towards  you.  He  is 
certain  to  "  turn  that  confidence  against  you,  and  exactly  in 
proportion  as  he  means  to  leave  it  uncopied."  The  result 
proved  Hazlitt's  sagacity.  Sir  Robert  Peel  drew  himself  up, 
resented  an  application  so  frank,  so  unusual  in  form,  and  so 
little  flattering  to  his  own  judgment  or  the  excellence  of  his 
intentions,  and  affecting  to  regard  the  explanation  as  an 
impudent  attempt  to  extort  money,  he  flung  the  poor  painter 
a  cheque  for  an  additional  30/.,  and  never  saw  his  face  again. 
But  he  kept  the  picture.  This  was  unworthy,  but  when  I  add 
as  the  fact  that  Sir  Robert  Peel  ever  after  told  the  story  to 
Haydon's  disadvantage,  and  in  such  a  manner  as  to  leave  an 
impression  on  the  minds  of  his  hearers  that  he  had  paid  300 
guineas  for  the  picture,  and  that  Haydon  had  then  demanded 
more,  there  is  in  Sir  Robert's  conduct  a  want  of  generosity 
and  a  disregard  for  the  strict  love  of  truth,  that  is,  to  say  the 
least,  not  pleasing.    But  the  nature  of  men,  it  is  well  said,  as 

*  The  late  John  Wilson  Crolcer  (Mr.  Rigby  of  Oningsby),  who  never  allowed 
merit  to  anybody  else,  and  who  particularly  piqued  himself  upon  having  been 
designed  by  Providence  to  set  the  world  right  in  matters  on  which  he  was 
ignorant,  was  in  the  habit  of  declaring  that  Haydon  had  stolen  the  design  of  this 
p  ctuie  from  a  French  print  of  1820.  It  is,  of  course,  within  the  bounds  of 
possibility  that  Haydon  may  have  seen  such  a  print.  But  Mr.  Croker  only  saw 
the  print  in  Paris,  and  Haydon  never  visited  Paris  after  1814.  Unfortunately, 
too,  for  Mr.  Cioker's  infallibility,  I  had  in  my  possession  for  many  years  (it  was 
only  burned  in  the  Pantechnicon  fire)  an  original  sketch  in  i^epia  by  my 
father  of  '  Achilles  lamenting  the  death  of  Pat  rod  us  at  break  of  Day.'  The 
date  of  this  sketch  was  1S09,  and  in  it  you  saw  the  original  of  Haydon's 
'Napoleon'  of  1830.  Achilles  with  his  bark  towards  you,  robe  loosely  flowing, 
arms  crossi  d,  chin  restingon  his  palm,  is  pneing  the  sea-shore  at  sunrise.  Before 
him  nothing  but  a  va-t  waste  of  waters  rolling  in,  the  sun  just  breaking  on  the 
horizon,  a  single  sail  in  sight,  Anything  more  exquisitely  poetical  I  never  saw. 
You  felt  the  morning  breeze,  you  heard  the  surf  beating 'on  the  beach,  you  saw 
the  glory  of  the  rising  sun,  you  marked  the  thoughts  oppressing  the  mind  of  tho 
Great  Chiefiain  in  the  very  motion  of  his  body,  as  he  paced  the  shore.  This  was 
the  origin  of  Haydon's  '  Napoleon,'  as  he  had  himself  subsequently  recorded  in  a 
corner.— Ed. 


[6o 


MEMOIR  OF 


of  tilings,  is  best  seen  in  small  quantities.*  Tt  is  painful  to  me 
to  have  to  speak  of  this  unfortunate  transaction.  Haydon,  with 
all  his  courage,  did  not  dare,  except  privately,  and  then  he 
always  put  the  blame  upon  himself,  and  ended  by  saying, 
"  Well,  perhaps  I  behaved  like  a  fool."  But  he  did  nothing 
of  the  kind,  in  the  first  instance.  He  had  trusted  to  Sir 
Robert  Peel's  generosity,  and  Sir  Robert  Peel  returned  the 
trust  in  the  manner  I  have  shown  ;  and  then  added  to  the  injury 
by  telling  the  story  of  his  purchase  so  unfairly  as  to  excite  a 
prejudice  against  Haydon  amongst  his  own  friends.  For  my 
part,  I  believe  he  never  forgave  Haydon  the  injury  he  (Sir 
Robert)  had  done  him.  It  was  the  irritation  of  his  conscience 
that  led  him  to  repeat  his  own  story  over  and  over  again,  for  he 
never  could  have  looked  at  the  'Napoleon  '  without  a  twinge. 

Taking  the  mere  time  the  picture  had  cost  Haydon,  it  was 
rewarding  him  at  the  rate  of  27s.  a  day !  I  put  it  to  any  man 
whether  that  was  fair  recompense  ?  And  then,  when  the 
inevitahle  difference  arose,  instead  of  returning  the  picture  to 
Haydon,  or  offering  to  submit  the  question  to  aib.tration,  Sir 
Kobert  keeps  the  picture,  and  absolutely  refuses  to  pay  its 
fair  price.  He  had  got  a  good  picture  for  next  to  nothing 
and  he  meaned  to  stick  to  it.  Such  conduct  is  not  d  st'n- 
guished  by  generosity  or  candour.  The  great  merchant  princes 
of  Italy,  when  pleased  with  the  work  of  the  painter  they  had 
employed,  doubled  his  price  of  the  p'cture  to  mark  their  appro- 
bation. Sir  Robert  improved  upon  this;  taking  advantage 
of  a  misunderstanding,  he  pa  d  one-fifth  of  the  fa  r  value,  kept 
the  picture,  and  then  tried  to  run  the  reputation  of  the  painter. 

Contrast  the  conduct  of  Lord  Egremont,  as  related  by  J.esl  e, 
on  a  similar  indefinite  arrangement.  A  <:raudch;ld  of  Lord 
Egremont's  was  dying  at  Colonel  Wyndham's,  some  fifty  miles 
from  London.  Lord  Egremont  wrote  to  Phillips,  the  portrait 
painter,  to  set  off  and  take  a  sketch  of  the  child  at  once. 
Phillips  be  ng  busy,  deputed  Leslie  to  go.  Lesl'e  posted 
down  that  day,  sat  up  all  night  making  sketches,  and,  return- 
ing to  town  the  next  day,  at  once  painted  a  head  of  the  dying 
ch  id.  When  Lord  Egremont  saw  the  head,  he  said,  "  What 
am  I  to  pay  for  this?"  Lesl  e  replied,  "  Twenty-five  guineas." 
"  But  your  travelling  expenses  inust  be  pa:d  ?  "  sa  d  the  cou- 

*  "  Perl  feels  things  deeply,  and  does  not  forgive  quickly,  and  wlmt  he  forgives 
least  easily  is  an  i.ttack  upun  Lis  dignity."—  Lord  1'aliucinlon  to  Jus  Brother, 
2!)  Aug.  1841.— Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


sidorate  earl.  "  They  were  five  guineas,"  said  Leslie.  Lord 
Egremont  sat  down  and  wrote  him  a  cheque  for  fifty  guineas. 
The  whole  thing  occupied  Leslie  about  three  days.*  The 
'Napoleon,'  on  the  other  hand,  occupied  Haydon  four  months. 

And  yet  it  is  only  justice  to  Sir  Robert  Peel  to  say  that 
his  giving  the  commission  was  no  act  of  "common  passage, 
but  a  strain  of  rareness."  It  was  to  shame  the  nobil.ty 
into  employing  a  man  who  could  conceive  and  paint  so 
poetical  a  picture  of  a  modern  subject.  What  a  pity  he 
insisted  upon  spoiling  so  fine  an  act  of  independent  will  by  a 
meanness  so  pitiful !  What  "  benefit "  could  it  have  been  to 
flay  don  to  paint  another  picture  of  the  same  kind  for  the  same 
money?  It  is  a  very  lucky  thing,  in  one  sense,  the  patrons 
did  not  feel  themselves  shamed  into  employing  Haydon  on  the 
same  terms,  or,  like  Hiero  of  Syracuse,  there  would  have  been 
nothing  left  for  him  but  to  hang  himself  on  the  spot. 

Haydon,  on  his  part,  was  mortified  beyond  measure  that  a 
man,  towards  whom  he  had  no  feeling  but  of  the  most  sincere 
respect,  should  treat  him  so  harshly,  and  so  ungenerously. 
Instead  of  wrapping  himself  up  in  the  dignity  of  a  silent 
memory,  he  foolishly  plunged  into  an  useless  and  importunate 
series  of  appeals  which  only  shows  how  necessary  it  is  never 
to  enter  upon  any  business  without  having  first  made  up  your 
mind  where  you  will  leave  off.  The  immediate  result  of  this 
unfortunate  business  was  that  Haydon  lost  about  25  /.  by  the 
picture.  But  that  was  not  the  worst.  It  soon  spread  through 
London  that  Haydon  and  Sir  Robert  Peel  had  a  serious 
"  difference  "  over  the  price  of  the  '  Napoleon,'  and  as  nobody 
knew  anything,  it  was  only  natural  everyone  should  believe 
the  worst.  Peel  had  "  swindled  "  Haydon,  and  Haydon  had 
tried  to  "  cheat  "  Peel.   It  became  almost  a  "  party  "  question. 

*  It  is  a  curious  coincidence  that  many  years  afterwards,  in  1844,  Haydon  had 
a  'replica'  of  Sir  Robert  Peel's  'Napoleon'  in  the  Art  Union  lottery  of  that 
year,  to  be  sold  for  three  hundred  guineas  to  a  winner.  Sir  Robert  Peel  was 
then  Prime  Minister.  Within  three  dnys  of  the  distribution  of  prizes,  to  the 
astonishment  of  all  London,  Sir  Robert  Peel's  law  officers  officially  arrested  the 
distribution  of  prizes,  and  stopped  the  lottery  on  the  plea  of  its  illegality.  Had 
this  copy  of  'Napoleon,'  which  had  only  occupied  Ha\don  five  days  in  paint- 
ing, been  publicly  advertised  as  being  sold  for  three  hundied  guineas,  Sir 
Robert  would  have  felt  himself  awkwardly  placed  with  regard  to  the  price  he  bad 
insisted  upon  fur  the  original,  viz.,  one  hundred  guineas,  the  307.  beintr  sent  under 
protest.  This  copy,  through  the  indefatigable  exertions  of  the  late  Earl  of 
Westmoreland,  one  of  Haydon's  truest  and  kindest  friends,  was  afterwards  sold 
to  the  then  King  of  Hanover,  and  was  placed  by  him  in  his  pah.ce  at  Harm- 
Lausen.— Ed. 

VOL.  I.  M 


MEMOIR  OF 


That  mo.v.t  misclvevous  and  malicious  of  men,  the  late  Wilson 
( 'roker,  helped  the  affair  finely.  Haydon  was  cut  "  to  a  man 
by  the  Tories.  The  Whigs  then  begon  to  think  of  taking 
him  up.  But  while  they  were  thinking  about  it,  Haydon 
became  so  embarrassed,  and  sank  down  rapidly  to  such  a  low 
ebb  of  battling  with  creditors,  struggling  against  attorneys,  and 
trying  to  support  his  growing  family  that,  between  his  mortifi- 
cation and  his  troubles,  I  am  indeed  surprised  he  did  not  break 
down  utterly.  Perhaps  his  sad  experience  was  beginning,  at 
last  to  deaden  pain.  But  indeed,  it  was  a  wonderful  sight  to 
watch  this  man,  as  I  can  remember  him,  with  all  his  powers 
burdened  to  the  very  extremity  of  endurance,  grappling  with 
armies  of  difficulties,  any  one  of  which  was  sufficient  to  try  the 
stoutest  heart,  running  in  the  race  with  others  in  all  the 
freshness  which  ease  and  competence  give,  and  never  once  fairly 
giving  way ;  it  was  a  picture  of  such  innate  courage,  of  such 
rare  heroism,  as  we  do  not  often  see.  His  Journal  gives  a  very 
faint  notion  of  the  real  state  of  affairs  at  home ;  he  seems 
unwill'ng  to  admit  the  facts,  even  to  himself.  "  It  is  tho 
bus'ness  of  an  Englishman,"  he  used  to  say,  "  to  content  and 
vanquish  impossibilit'es."  Certainly,  in  this  respect,  he  was 
amply  endowed  by  both  Wh'gs  and  Tories.  Indeed,  it  was 
becomi  ig  as  plain  to  him,  as  it  was  to  Home  Tooke,  there 
were  only  three  ways  by  which  he  could  live  in  England  :  he 
must  beg,  borrow,  or  steal.  He  borrowed  like  Burke,  like 
Johnson,  like  hundreds  of  better  men  before  him,  but,  unlike 
Burke.,  he  never  found  a  Marquis  of  Bockingham,*  at  least, 
among  the  coronets.  It  was  degrading,  but  he  got  used  to  it. 
When  Hadji  Baba  was  first,  made  executioner  it  wrung  his 
heart;  but  after  he  once  got  his  hand  in,  he  says,  he  rculd 
have  "  impaled  his  own  father  without  any  notion  of  cruelty." 
It  is  the  same,  I  take  it,  with  borrowers  ;  the  impecunious 
habit  hardens  a  man  into  morbid  indifference  to  appearances, 
and  leads  him  into  acts  of  inexcusable  laxity  without  any 
notion  of  wrong.  But  there  is  this  to  be  said  for  Haydon,  his 
private  life  was  pure  and  temperate ;  he  had  no  private  vices, 
and  the  only  extravagance  he  ever  allowed  himself  was  in  his 
models  and  materials  of  art.  If  he  could  ha^e  got  the  work 
and  wages  he  sought,  he  never  would  have  borrowed  a  six- 

*  Burke  was  deeply  in  the  debt  of  the  Marquis,  whose  last  act  on  his  deathbed 
was  to  cancel  all  the  bonds  for  money  due  to  him  from  Burke. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


163 


pence,  but  those  who  could  afford  it  would  not  give  him 
work.  For  example,  I  find  him  writing  to  this  and  that  noble 
lord,  not  for  money,  but  for  work,  offering  to  paint  certain 
subjects.  They  one  and  all  reply  that  they  have  no  room  for 
pictures,  or  cannot  afford  the  cost  just  now,  or  some  similar 
excuse,  and  some  send  him  twenty  guineas  and  some  five. 
Hay  don  revolts  against  this,  but,  on  second  consideration, 
thinks  it  folly  to  return  the  money,  as  it  would  have  been  to 
quarrel  with  a  man  for  doing  what  he  meant  kindly ;  and 
this,  of  course,  is  set  down  to  Haydon's  disadvantage.  He  was 
d  ficient,  I  do  believe,  in  what  Swift  calls  that  under-strapping 
virtue  "  discretion,"  but  patient  investigation  into  his  affairs 
has  shown  that  his  expenditure  had  always  been  as  moderate  as 
the  required  support  of  his  family  permitted,  and  that  this 
expenditure  had  been  sanctioned  by  the  hopes  that  his 
prospects  appeared  to  justify.  If  a  patron,  like  the  late  Mr. 
Gurney,  the  banker,  of  Lombard  Street,  disreputably  broke  his 
word  with  him  ;  or,  like  the  Corporation  of  the  City  of  London, 
evaded  their  promise  and  refused  to  keep  faith  ;  or,  like  the 
late  Sir  Robert  Peel,  kept  a  valuable  picture,  and  only  paid 
him  one-fifth  its  legitimate  price ;  or,  like  the  Whigs  over  the 
"  Reform  Banquet,"  left  him  in  the  "  hole  "  they  had  dropped 
him  into ;  or,  like  some  of  his  employers — the  shoddy  Meca> 
nases  of  the  last  years  of  his  life — screwed  the  products  of  his 
long  experience  out  of  him  at  about  a  tenth  of  the  fair  price,* 
• — he  fell  into  arrears,  and  arrears  begat  law  costs,  and  law  costs 
begat  appeals  to  friends  to  save  him  from  arrest.  Had  he 
been  fairly  employed,  and  paid  fair  prices  for  his  pictures,  he 
never  would  have  owed,  or  borrowed  money. 

This  was  the  opinion,  expressed  to  me  more  than  once,  of 
the  late  Judge  Talfourd,  who  knew  more  about  Haydon's 
affairs  than  Haydon  himself,  and  the  judge  assured  me,  in 
1850,  of  his  confident  belief  that,  Haydon  never  incurred  a 
liability  he  did  not  honestly  mean,  and  honestly  exert  himself, 
to  clear  off.  If  he  did  not  regularly  discharge  his  current 
bills  it  was  because  he  had  no  employment,  and  consequently 
no  money.  He  was  forty-two  years  before  the  public,  and  for 
thirty-seven  of  those  years  he  was  without  a  commiss:on.  His 

*  When  he  was  dead,  some  of  these  folks  complained  to  his  family  that  their 
purchases  had  turned  out  a  '•  bad  speculation,"  after  all ! — Ed. 

M  2 


MEMOIR  OF 


journals  and  private  letters  are  full  of  proof  in  support  of  the 
op:nion  of  the  judge.  For  example,  the  late  Duke  of  Suther- 
land lends  Hay  don  501.  in  an  emergency.  Haydon,  the 
moment  he  has  time,  paints  a  picture,  '  Reading  the  Times,'  a 
picture  fairly  worth  200?.,  and  sends  it  to  the  Duke,  begging  its 
acceptance  in  discharge  of  the  loan,  and  the  Duke  accepts  the 
picture.  Lord  Melbourne,  in  another  emergency,  sends  him 
707.  Haydon  makes  him  a  beautiful  sketch,  and  Lord  Mel- 
bourne accepts  it  in  return.  The  Duke  of  Bedford  sends  him 
50'.,  and  he  enters  the  Duke  on  his  list  for  five  shares  in  the 
eight  hundred  guinea  raffle  for  '  Xenophon,'  which  picture  the 
Duke,  to  his  evident  perplexity,  wins.  Talfourd  lends  him  40/., 
and  he  pa:nts  his  portrait — the  kindly  judge,  not  forgetting  to 
add  a  balance  to  make  up,  as  he  said,  "  the  full  value." 
Another  man  makes  him  a  loan  and  Haydon  paints  his 
portrait,  and  so  on  throughout  his  life.  He  is  everywhere,  and 
on  all  occasions,  borrowing  money  to  meet  his  needs,  and  if  he 
has  no  money  to  pay  it  back,  he  gives  what  he  has,  his  time 
and  sk  11  in  his  art,  and  scatters  broadcast  among  his  sup- 
porters beautiful  sketches,  exquisite  copies  in  miniature  of 
his  own  larger  works,  and  original  paintings,  with  a  reckless 
generosity  that  should  be  recalled  to  his  credit  as  well  as  the 
chief  cause,  when  condemned  for  his  habit  of  "borrowing" 
from  his  friends.  He  always  seemed  to  me  more  anxious  to 
overpay  than  underpay  any  man.  Yet,  after  all,  the  "con- 
sumption of  your  purse,"  as  FaLtaff  says,  "  is  a  disease  that  is 
incurable,"  and  many  painters  besides  Haydon  (Sir  Thomas 
Lawrence,  for  example),  and  many  men  of  literature  and  art, 
and  others,  have  found  that  "  borrowing  only  lingers  and  lingers 
it  out."  That  art  sts,  as  a  rule,  Haydon  and  Sir  Thomas  Law- 
rence, P.R.A.,  in  particular,  are  held  to  have  had  a  loose 
morality  in  money  matters,  I  am  aware.  But  punctuality  in 
money  matters  is  very  like  bravery  in  the  field ;  most  men 
arc  brave  because  they  fear  to  run  away.*  Before  you  praise 
a  man  for  being  punctual  in  these  matters,  other  things  being 
equal,  you  should  first  ascertain  whether  he  is  above  or  below 
unpunctuality.  And,  because  a  man  confines  his  ambition 
to  painting,  is  he  to  be  wholly  without  the  imperfect;ons  of 
our  nature  ?     If  artists  are  lax  in  money-matters,  at  least 

*  Occasionally  the  desire  tn  escape  danger  overpowers  tl.eir  fear  of  &hamo,  and 
theu  you  will  see  what  most  nieu  see  w  ho  go  into  action. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


they  lead  pure  live^  and  if  they  borrow  freely  they  lend 
with  benevolence.  Let  us  make  a  fair  balance,  for  are  not 
all  things  "double,  one  against  the  other?"  Compare  the 
life  of  a  great  painter  with  that  of  a  great  politician.  We 
will  assume  they  have  both  the  same  ambition  to  serve 
and  benefit  their  country.  Take  the  case  of  Canning,  a  great 
man  of  great  views.  We  will  say  nothing  of  his  private 
life,  that  was  too  notorious,  but  can  anything  be  more  im- 
moral, more  repugnant  to  all  feelings  of  honour,  truth,  duty, 
and  loyalty  to  your  friends,  than  the  means  by  which  Can- 
ning first  obtained  public  office,  held  public  office,  and  roso 
to  power  ?  He  is  the  man  of  whom  it  was  said  he  "  never  went 
straightforward  to  his  mark" — and  did  he  ever?  Opposing 
all  reform,  approving  every  job,  defending  every  abuse,  encou- 
raging a  "  No  Popery  "  cry,  when  in  his  heart  he  was  in  favour 
of  Catholic  Emancipation,  and  absolutely  supporting,  with 
extravagant  language,  the  most  cruel  measures  for  the  repres- 
sion of  our  liberties,  when — who  can  doubt  ? — he  was  acting  a 
part  to  ruin  the  administration  of  which  he  was  a  member,  in 
order  to  succeed  as  First  Minister. 

The  morality  of  all  this  is  extremely  curious,  and  would 
probably  have  called  at  the  time  for  much  observation,  but 
Canning  became  Prime  Minister,  and  principles,  then,  we  all 
know,  are  not  often  allowed  to  stand  in  the  way  of  that 
patriotism  which  supports  the  Minister,  in  the  hope  of 
place. 

But  Canning  was  altogether  an  exceptional  man,  a  man  of 
great  versatility  of  power,  and  consequently  of  principle.  Like 
Mirabeau,  if  his  father  and  mother  had  quarrelled  and  gone 
to  law,  he  would  have  drawn  up  the  affidavits  of  each  with 
equal  skill.  Such  a  man,  it  will  be  urged,  is  not  to  be  judged 
by  common  rules.  And  is  not  every  painter  of  genius  an  ex- 
ceptional man  ?  All  men  of  genius  are  exceptional  men,  and 
not  to  be  judged  too  strictly.  But  let  us  take  another  case — 
an  unexceptionable  case — the  case  of  a  man  unwarmed  by  wit 
or  genius,  the  very  opposite  of  Canning  in  every  respect  ; 
distant,  reflective,  diffident,  living  in  uneasy  splendour,  and 
of  unimpeachable  integrity  in  private  life — the  late  Sir  Eobert 
Peel,  and  will  he  fare  any  better  than  Canning?  Is  his 
political  career  one  we  could  conscientiously  hold  up  as  an 
example  to  a  young  man  ?    You  might  as  well  train  a  youth  to 


MEMOIR  OF 


morals  on  the  pattern  of  Joseph  Surface^  "  All  rising  to  great 
place,"  says  Bacon,  "  is  by  a  winding  stair ;"  but,  surely,  no 
man  ever  took  so  many  turns  as  the  late  Sir  Robert  Peel.  In- 
triguing with  and  against  Canning ;  now  siding  with  Lord 
Eldon,  now  plotting  against  him ;  now  alarming  the  Duke, 
now  betraying  him ;  subservient  to  rank,  yet  courting  popu- 
larity ;  defending  the  Tories,  but  not  identifying  himself 
with  them  ;  supporting  the  Church,  but  leaving  a  loop-hole ; 
in  short,  civil  to  all,  but  satisfying  none,  and  never  denying 
his  conscience  permission  to  release  him  from  inconvenient 
obligations.  When  at  length  he  reaches  the  object  of  his 
ambition,  and  becomes  invested  with  all  the  authority  the  lead 
of  a  great  Tarty  alone  gives,  he  is,  towards  his  Party,  always 
ambiguous,  always  unsatisfactory,  never  straightforward.  For 
ever  dallying  with  the  political  devil  of  the  day,  whether 
Catholics  and  Emancipation,  or  Cobden  and  Corn,  he  passes 
his  life,  like  the  second  son  in  the  parable,  saying  to  his 
Party,  as  he  pocketed  their  wages,  "  I  will  go  and  work  in  your 
vineyard," — and  in  not  going. 

Whether  the  result  of  his  policy  or  of  Canning's  was  bene- 
ficial to  the  nation  is  not  the  question,  any  more  than  the  result 
of  a  painter's  labour.  I  am  speaking  only  of  the  means  each 
employs  to  attain  his  end,  which,  equally  with  the  artist  is  fame, 
by  increasing  the  happiness  and  prosperity  of  his  fellow-country- 
men. Granting  to  "  policy  "  the  most  liberal  indulgence  w  hich 
the  world  gives,  I  fear  Sir  Robert  Peel's  political  life,  as  much 
as  Canning's,  will  be  found  to  afford  another  illustration  of  how 
great  a  part  of  political  history  is  made  up  of  the  bad  actions 
of  the  best  men.  In  short,  human  nature  is  too  imperfect  to 
find  genius  or  great  administrative  ability,  or  great  energy 
of  character,  combined  with  high  ambition,  always  under  the 
control  of  the  moderate  virtues. 

I  do  not  seek  to  excuse  painters  their  one  notorious  defect, 
but  rather  to  point  out  what  strange  notions  of  justice  those 
have  who  acquit  the  politician  and  condemn  the  painter  for 
much  the  same  offence  under  very  similar  conditions. 

To  return,  however,  to  Haydon.  The  sudden  rupture  of  his 
friendly  relations  with  Sir  Robert  Peel  reduced  Haydon  to  sad 
straits,  for  his  family  was  now  growing  up,  and  the  calls 
upon  him  in  proportion.  In  spite  of  all  his  difficulties  hitherto, 
he  had  contrived  to  put  one  of  his  step-sons  as  a  midshipman  in 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


167 


her  Majesty's  navy,  and  the  other  he  had  sent  to  Oxford.  But 
he  had  also  eight  young  children  at  home  to  support,  and  the 
struggle  was  desperate.  Within  the  next  few  years  his  five 
youngest  children  died,  one  after  the  other,  from  the  effects  of 
the  terrible  mental  distresses  of  their  mother,  whose  bright 
face  was  sad  enough  now.  I  can  remember  the  sweet  old  roses 
of  her  sunken  cheeks  fading  away  daily  with  anxiety  and  grie*1. 
Hay  don,  who  was  passionately  attached  to  both  wife  and  chil- 
dren, suffered  all  the  tortures  of  the  damned  at  the  sight  before 
him.  His  sorrow  over  the  deaths  of  his  dear  children  was 
something  more  than  human.  I  remember  watching  him  as 
he  hung  over  his  daughter  Georgiana,  and  over  his  dying  boy 
Harry,  the  pride  and  delight  of  his  life.  Poor  fellow,  how  he 
cried!  and  he  went  into  the  next  room,  and  beating  his  head 
passionately  on  the  bed,  called  upon  God  to  take  him  and  all 
of  us  from  this  hateful  world.  Those  were  dreadful  days. 
The  earliest  and  the  most  painful  death  was  to  be  preferred  to 
our  life  at  that  time.  Who  can .  feel  surprised  at  Haydon 
entreating  the  Almighty  to  afflict  his  children  with  every  other 
calamity  on  earth  than  a  love  for  painting  ? 

"  Unhappy,"  says  Carlyle,  "  is  that  family  with  a  fool  at  its 
head."  He  is  mistaken.  The  misery  is  to  have  the  historical 
painter  of  genius  at  your  head  ;  that  is  the  domestic  situation 
most  to  be  pitied  in  England.  Listen  to  what  Haydon  writes 
after  live  and  twenty  years'  labour  to  raise  the  taste  of  the 
English  nobility,  and  through  them  of  the  people,  to  a  higher 
appreciation  of  fine  art,  and  say  if  the  picture  be  exaggerated. 
"  Of  what  use,"  he  asks,  "  are  my  brains  to  myself  or  others  ? 
They  have  brought  me  to  ruin,  and  now,  after  twenty-five 
years'  devotion  to  my  art,  I  cannot  get  my  bread  by  painting  ! 
I  have  not  sold  a  single  drawing,  or  picture,  or  portrait.  The 
English  patrons  and  public  now,  knowing  that  my  bread 
depends  on  what  I  do,  leave  me  to  starve!  and  this  is  wealthy, 
liberal  England  !  At  an  age,  and  after  labours  and  productions 
that  ought  to  have  placed  me  in  a  position  above  pecuniary 
harass,  and  in  any  other  country  but  England  would  have 
placed  me  in  security  and  peace,  I  am  ruined  and  left  to 
starve ;  yet  I  am  always  conceiving  beautiful  subjects  and 
sketching  them,  and  then  comes  the  dreary  truth."  How 
natural,  how  pathetic,  these  touching  words  are  !  Then  he  adds, 
"  I  wonder  my  frame  has  borne  this  so  long.    The  mere  agita- 


tfi8 


MEMOIR  OF 


tions  of  the  conceptions  of  one's  mind,  flushing  one's  brain  with 
blood,  bathing  one's  body  in  perspiration,  must  wear  out  the 
brain,  and  then,  in  addition,  the  necessities  of  poverty  are 
dreadful.  If  I  were  alone  again,  if  I  had  neither  wife  nor 
children,  I  would  leave  England  for  ever.  Buried  in  Italy  or 
Greece,  I  would  pass  my  days  in  the  lowest  avocation,  could  I 
get  by  it  peace — peace.  I  would  lie  on  the  Acropolis  and  hail 
the  ruins  about  me  as  congenial  to  my  destroyed  hopes.  I 
would  wander  in  the  Alps,  sleep  in  caverns,  lulled  by  the 
invisible  roar  of  foaming  floods,  and  waked  by  the  echoing 
screech  of  soaring  eagles,  I  would  plunge  into  the  flood  and 
rise  from  its  depths,  lie  panting  and  breathless  on  its  banks 
till  nature  recovered  sensation  and  my  desolation  returned  to 

me !"  Then,  in  words  that  speak  of  the  bitterness  of 

his  humiliation,  he  concludes,  "I  pray  God  with  all  my  heart 
that  no  child  of  mine  be  gifted  with  a  passion  for  High  Art. 
On  my  knees,  with  my  forehead  bent  to  the  earth  and  my  lips 
to  the  dust,  I  entreat  Him  .that  He  will,  in  His  mercy,  afflict 
them  with  every  other  passion,  appetite,  or  misery,  with 
wretchedness,  disease,  insanity,  and  gabbling  idiotism,  rather 
than  a  longing  for  painting — that  scorned,  that  miserable  art, 
that  greater  imposture  than  the  htiman  species  it  imitates." 

In  this  Christian  country  poverty  is  a  crime ;  in  Pagan 
Home,  in  .  its  worst  days,  it  was  only  ridiculous.*  We  have 
advanced  far  beyond  the  "  benighted  heathen." 

Yet  it  is  possible  Haydon  did  not  rightly  understand  the 
refined  philosophy  of  his  noble  friends.  It  may  have  been 
out  of  a  delicate  appreciation  for  his  talents  they  kept  him  in 
this  mean  condition.  Low  living  in  their  experience  is  essen- 
tial to  high  thinking,  and  frequent  fasting  an  excellent  discipline 
for  body  and  mind.  It  was  also  certain  to  secure  his  morals. 
I  am  not  quite  sure  our  nobility  do  not  think  that,  for  a 
painter,  poet,  or  musician  to  have  a  full  stomach  after  dinner, 
should  be  made  a  penal  offence.    "  I  understand,"  once  said  a 

noble  duke  reproachfully  to  Haydon,  "  that  Mr.  M   eats 

turbot  for  dinner ! "  Good  heavens !  what  a  voluptuary  !  The 
poor  man  might  as  well  have  wished  for  roast  meats,  game, 
and  poultry,  which,  according  to  Fonblanque,  a  kind  Providence 

♦  "Nil  habet,  infrlix  paupertis  durius  in  so 
Guam  quod  ridicules  homines  tacit "  .  .  .  . 

Juvenal,  Sat.  3. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


169 


reserves  especially,  with  turbot  and  its  lobster  sauce,  for  the 
bishops,  the  nobility,  and  their  sick  ladies.  And  thus  it  was, 
we  may  depend  on  it,  that  poor  Haydon,  a  man  of  fine  poetic 
temperament,  born  in  an  age  that  had  no  poetic  feeling  for  art, 
because  it  was  too  well  fed,  was  cut  off  by  the  patrons  from  his 
meat  and  wine,  and  left  to  the  bailiffs,  all  out  of  consideration 
for  his  poetic  genius.  They  wished  to  preserve  the  freshness 
and  fancy  of  his  imagination  free  from  the  fumes  of  indigestion. 
Although  why  they  should  allow  him  to  be  imprisoned  again 
and  again,  I  cannot  understand,  unless  the  excitement  of 
releasing  him  was  so  great  a  pleasure,  they  could  not  bring 
themselves  to  part  with  it  by  paying  his  debts,  or  by  giving 
him  employment  to  enable  him  to  pay  them  himself. 

The  ancient  Mosynians.  1  have  somewhere  read,  had  an 
excellent  custom  ;  when  their  King  cave  an  unjust  judgment, 
they  kept  him  without  food  for  that  day.  In  England,  our 
nobility  followed  and  improved  upon  it;  for  a  man  had  only 
to  paint  one  fine  historical  picture  to  make  sure  of  absolute 
starvation.  To  paint  a  second  and  third  was  to  bring  him  to 
wish  for  the  fate  of  Euclid's  chicken,  which,  scraping  up  a 
treasure,  had  its  neck  twisted  on  the  spot. 

But  now  a  change  was  coming  in  Haydon's  favour;  the 
"  Whigs "  were  going  to  take  him  by  the  hand.  The  pro- 
verbial worst  must  have  been  reached,  when  matters  began  to 
mend  in  this  direction.  The  "  Reform  Bill "  was  before  the  world, 
and  Sir  Robert  Peel  was  making  one  of  his  great  mistakes ;  he 
was  opposing  Reform.  Haydon,  who  in  politics  had  a  robust 
faith  in  the  people,  and  a  passionate  hatred  of  all  abuses, 
aristocrat  as  he  was.  forgot  his  own  sufferings  in  the  excite- 
ment of  the  times,  plunged  fiercely  into  politics,  and  wrote  a 
series  of  able  "Letters"  to  the  'Times'  and  other  journals 
upon  "  Reform,"  into  which  he  enters  fully,  exposes  the  hollow- 
ness  of  Peel's  opposition,  and  urges  the  people  never  to  give 
in,  nor  to  accept  less  than  the  reforms  which  were  needed. 
How  far  Sir  Robert  Peel's  treatment  of  him  may  have  carried 
Haydon  in  this  direction  I  cannot  say,  but  there  is  a  fierceness 
in  his  support  of  reform,  and,  although  he  always  treats  Sir 
.Robert  with  respect,  a  bitterness  of  tone  which  indicates  to 
me  the  rankling  of  a  private  wrong.  It  often  adds  a  zest  to 
invective. 

Oddly  enough,  Haydon  fell  into  the  hands  of  Attwood  and  the 


170 


MEMOIR  OF 


Birmingham  radicals,  who  commissioned  him  to  paint  a  picture 
of  the  Newhall  Hill  Meeting,  but  not  rinding  money  plentiful 
in  their  pockets,  and  finding  Hay  don  had  the  "  real  grit"  in  him, 
as  the  Americans  call  it,  they  withdrew  from  the  picture  and 
tried  to  indue  Haydon  to  give  up  paintmg,  and  come  out  on 
their  side  as  a  political  speaker.  But  their  fierce  democratic  prin- 
ciples and  their  rude  manners  jarred  upon  Haydon's  aristocratic 
sentiments,  and  he  hung  back.  While  he  was  hesitating  the 
Bill  was  passed,  and  Lord  Grey  catching  Haydon  in  June  183  L 
gave  him  a  five  hundred  guinea  commission  to  pa:nt  the 
famous  '  Beform  Banquet'  in  Guildhall,  and  so  turned  him 
once  again  into  the  pictorial  groove. 

I  have  often  speculated  upon  what  Haydon  might  have  done 
in  public  life  if  he  had  devoted  to  politics  the  time  and 
attention  he  gave  up  to  art.  I  have  heard  him  complain  that 
he  felt  "  confined  "  in  the  art,  that  he  could  not  get  "  full 
swing  "  for  the  power  he  had  within  him,  and  I  have  no  doubt 
of  it.  He  was  a  man  of  great  natural  powers  of  mind,  with 
high  power  of  cultivation,  and  certainly  he  had  many  of  the 
qualities  that  go  to  make  up  a  statesman.  In  the  fu>t  place 
he  was  a  thoroughly  tough  and  indomitable  man,  "  none  of 
your  shilipit  milk-and-water  dandies,"  as  Proudfoot  says,  "  but 
a  sterling  substantial  fallow,  who  wadna  hae  feered  the  deil 
suppose  he  met  him."  He  had  great  breadth  of  character  and 
elevation  of  mind.  All  his  political  ideas  were  grand  and 
imperial.  He  was  for  binding  the  whole  of  our  colonies  in  one 
vast  confederation,  or  else  of  setting  them  free ;  but  no  keep- 
ing them  in  mere  leading-strings ;  that  was  neither  one  thing 
nor  the  other.  I  can  remember  his  saying  one  evening,  now 
nearly  forty  years  ago,  with  a  puff  of  contempt,  "  What  stuff  to 
talk  of  England  only  as  a  European  power!  She  is  a  great 
Asiatic  and  American  power  that  could  put  the  whole  of  Europe 
in  her  pocket  and  make  a  colony  of  it."  "  What !"  he  cried  out 
on  another  occasion,  the  English  Channel  a  lucky  thing  for  us! 
I  can  tell  you  it  was  a  very  lucky  thing  for  the  Continent." 
The  first  idea  has  since  struck  other  men.  The  last  I  have 
never  since  heard  uttered.  But  it  was  grand,  and  charac- 
teristic of  him,  for  his  faith  in  England  and  in  her  people, 
and  their  pugnacity  and  powers  of  endurance,  was  unbounded. 
"  There  is  no  people  like  them — they  are  the  finest  race  in 
the  world."    He  never  had  the  least  doubt  aboat  our  success 


B.  R.  HAYDOX. 


171 


and  supremacy,  but  he  would  never  have  despised  an  enemy, 
and  always  have  been  prepared  for  every  emergency.  Then 
his  knowledge  of  men  and  things  was  wide,  his  reading  of 
history  thorough,  and  in  all  the  common  qualities  of  our 
race  he  was  not  to  be  surpassed.  Witness  his  activity,  his 
energy,  his  industry  and  public  zeal,  his  high  courage,  his 
audacious  self-reliance,  his  readiness  of  resource  under  diffi- 
culty and  defeat,  his  loyalty  to  his  friends,  his  generosity  to 
all,  and  his  power  of  passionate  appeal,  and  in  a  lively  and 
picturesque  style.  These  qualities,  in  spite  of  corresponding 
defects,  which  were  only  the  defects  of  a  warm  heart,  must 
have  won  for  him  a  high  place  in  party  warfare,  and,  I  even 
venture  to  think,  in  that  Assembly  which  values  the  man  who 
speaks  from  his  heart.  But  it  was  not  to  be,  and  never  was, 
though  I  can  remember  his  saying  one  day,  in  a  half-musing 
tone  to  himself,  "  I  have  done  something  for  the  Art,  but  I 
could  have  done  more  in  Politics ;  perhaps  I  ought  to  have 
gone  in,  though  "  (he  added  after  a  moment)  "  I  detest  their 
dirty  jobs ;"  then  he  seemed  to  toss  the  idea  contemptuously 
from  him,  and  went  on  painting  furiously.* 

The  commission  from  Lord  Grey  was  to  paint  the  Great 
Eeform  Banquet  at  the  Guildhall  on  the  occasion  of  the 
passing  of  the  Bill  of  1832.  The  Corporation  of  the  City  of 
London  also  engaged  to  take  a  copy  of  the  picture,  and  Haydon 
at  once  set  to  work.  It  was  a  picture  of  portraits ;  ninety- 
seven  of  the  leading  Whigs  and  Hadicals  of  the  day  had  to  be 
painted,  and  thus  Haydon  found  himself  compelled  to  go  again 
into  that  society  from  which  he  had  greatly  been  excluded 
since  J823.  But  it  was  now  an  unequal  combination,  and 
these  are  always  disadvantages  to  the  weaker  side,  as  we  shall 
see.  Lord  Grey,  Mr.  Stanley,  Lord  Althorp,  the  Duke  of 
Bichmond,  Lord  Lansdowne,  Lord  John  Kussell,  Lord  Mel- 
bourne, Lord  Brougham,  Lord  Palmerston,  Sir  Francis  Burdett, 
Tom  Duncombe,  Sir  James  Graham,  O'Connell,  Hume,  and  all 
the  leading  members  of  the  reform  party  of  that  day  sat  to  Hay- 
don in  turn,  and  satirised  each  other,  while  their  wives  criticised 
the  portraits  of  each  other's  husband.  With  his  sitters  Haydon, 
of  course,  became  on  good  terms;  but  he  complains  that  he 
found  the  Whigs  more  lax  in  their  views  on  morality,  especially 

*  I  am  not  certain,  but  I  tliiuk  in  early  life  lie  had  an  offer  to  enter  Parliament 
and  dcclinLd.— Ed. 


172 


MEMOIR  OF 


on  the  subject  of  the  Seventh  Commandment,  than  the  Tories, 
who  were  perhaps  just  as  lax  but  did  not  talk  about  it— and  not 
given  to  generous  hospitality.*  There  was  a  hard  aristocratic 
selfishness  about  them  that  he  did  not  like,  and  contrasted 
unfavourably  with  bis  old  friends.  The  three  men  he  liked 
best  and  who  liked  him  were  Lord  Melbourne,  Lord  Palmerston, 
and  Lord  Durham.  He  had  no  reason  to  complain  of  their 
aristocratic  exclusiveness,  nor  were  they  chary  of  their  hospi- 
tality towards  him.  Upon  their  opinions  of  the  Feventh  Com- 
mandment he  discreetly  says  nothing.  The  two  first  were  men 
of  the  world,  the  last  a  misanthrope,  who  found  in  Haydon's 
disappointed  ambition  something  congenial  with  his  own. 

With  his  sitters  Haydon  had  many  and  interesting  conver- 
sations upon  politics,  by  which  he  learned  how  much  "  chance  " 
there  is  in  legislation,  and  upon  the  great  subject  of  his 
thought,  the  advancement  of  art,  the  reform  of  the  Academy, 
and  the  elevation  of  the  taste  of  the  nation.  These  conver- 
sations I  have  given  as  fully  as  appears  fair  in  his  Table-Talk. 
Upon  the  whole  he  did  not  derive  a  very  high  impression  of 
the  feeling  of  our  public  men  for  art.  They  knew  too  little 
about  it,  and  were  too  much  occupied  in  politics,  and  jobs,  anil 
parish  matters  to  care  about  knowing  more.  What  little  good 
Haydon  tried  to  do  them  one  day  was  undone  the  next,  or  at 
night,  by  clever  academicians.  "  They  dine  together,"  he 
writes,  "  they  speechify,  they  cajole,  and  gossip  over  their 
wine,  and  thus  the  art  is  jobbed  and  ruined."  For  example, 
he  fondly  hopes  one  week  that  he  has  converted  the  Prime 
Minister  to  his  theory,  that  Schools  of  Design  are  absolutely 
indispensable  to  us  as  a  commercial  and  manufacturing  nation, 
and  that  every  pattern  designer  should  be  taught  how  to 
draw  on  the  same  principle  as  the  artist,  viz.,  from  the  antique. 
The  next  week  Lord  Grey  frankly  confesses  that  he  has 
"  changed  his  opinion  about  schools  of  design."  That  he  can- 
not "  understand  the  necessity  "  of  pattern  designers  learning 
to  draw  the  human  figure.  This,  of  course,  was  not  his  own, 
but  had  been  instilled  into  him  by  Sir  Martin  Shee,  the  Pre- 
sident of  the  Eoyal  Academy,  who,  "  to  save  his  life,"  says 

•  One  day  nt  the  late  Lord  Grey's  l  ouse,  during  the  first -Jays  of  their  acquaint- 
anee,  and  while  Lord  (J rev  was  sitting  to  him,  luncheon  was  announced.  Lnrd 
Grey  sot  up  and  left  the 'room,  and  left  Haydon  in  it;  nor  was  any  luncheon 
sent  in.— Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


173 


Haydon,  "  could  not  draw  a  hand,  a  foot,  a  head,  or  a  knee 
correctly."  Haydon  tries  to  remove  this  bad  impression,  but 
a  few  days  later  Lord  Grey  returns  to  the  point,  and  declares 
again  that  he  "does  not  really  see  much  value  in  drawing. 
Correggio,  you  know,  could  not  draw,  nor  could  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds."  "  I  looked  fiery,"  says  Haydon,  "  but  I  did  not 
reply,  for  I  could  not  speak  without  making  him  (Lord  Grey) 
ridiculous."  But  if  he  failed  with  Lord  Grey,  Haydon  was 
more  successful  with  his  radical  tail.  Hume,  Ewart,  and  Wyse 
adopted  Haydon's  views,  and  very  quickly  arranged  a  cam- 
paign against  the  Academy.  Early  in  the  session  of  183 1 
Mr.  Ewart  moved  for  and  obtained  a  return  of  the  works  of 
art  exhibited  by  the  Royal  Academy  in  previous  years.  This 
was  the  first  step.  With  Lord  Melbourne  Haydon  succeeded 
better.  He  admitted  schools  of  design  were  necessary,  promised 
Haydon  that  if  he  could  he  would  establish  one  for  London, 
and  also  that  Haydon's  idea  of  decorating  the  Houses  should 
be  "  considered  "  at  the  first  favourable  opportunity.  And  yet, 
though  he  talked  and  laughed  and  argued  over  the  subject 
constantly  with  Haydon,  Lord  Melbourne  would  do  no  more. 
He  would  not  boldly  adopt  Haydon's  scheme  for  provincial 
schools  of  design,  but  he  gave  him  a  committee  (Mr.  Ewart's 
committee  of  1836)  to  inquire  generally  into  the  subject  of  Art 
and  Design,  and  bring  up  the  "  Academy  "  to  be  cross-examined. 
A  public  grant  of  money  in  aid  of  painting  and  design  was 
an  innovation  Lord  Melbourne  was  not  prepared  to  make.  He 
would  have  readily  knighted  or  baroneted  Haydon,  or  per- 
haps have  put  him  into  the  peerage  if  he  had  been  well  enough 
off  and  wished  it,  but  his  policy  was  to  let  things  alone  till 
forced  to  make  a  change.  Thus,  when  Haydon  asked  him  to 
interfere  with  the  Royal  Academy,  he  said,  "  No,"  and  when 
Mr.  Ewart's  committee  made  their  report,  recommending  pro- 
vincial schools  of  design,  he  took  the  least  notice  of  it  pos- 
sible, because  it  would  have  stirred  up  matters  he  preferred 
leaving  as  they  were,  on  principle  and  policy.  "  The  policy  of 
the  '  Whigs,' "  writes  Haydon,  "  is  to  arrest  the  keen  edge  of 
the  scalping-knife  of  reform.  They  are  content  with  pricking 
the  corruption  which  ought  to  be  probed  and  the  humours 
let  out." 

Lord  Melbourne  never  even  got  beyond  looking  at  the 
knife.    Though  he  liked  Haydon  and  enjoyed  his  society,  he 


'74 


MEMOIR  OF 


never  gave  him  a  commission.  He  could  not  afford  it,  but 
lie  once  sent  Haydon  70/.  to  save  him  from  arrest,  and  accepted 
in  return  a  very  beautiful  sketch  of  a  very  beautiful  woman, 
winch  I  find  he  "  always  kept  hung  up  "  at  his  bedside.  This 
was  doubly  like  Lord  Melbourne.  He  was  much  attached  to 
Haydon,  regretted  that  he  had  not  done  more  for  him,  was 
deeply  affected  by  his  death  in  1846,  and  expressed  himself 
touchingly  to  the  family. 

Haydon  finished  the  picture  of  the  '  Reform  Banquet '  by 
the  spring  of  1831,  and,  by  particular  desire  of  the  Whigs, 
exhibited  it  publicly.  They  hoped  it  would  recall  the  days 
of  their  glory.  But  the  discredit  into  which  Lord  Grey's 
government  had  fallen  kept  the  Ten  Pounders  away,  and  the 
general  agitation  of  the  times  made  the  exhibition  a  failure. 
This  inflicted  a  pecuniary  loss  of  some  210Z.  upon  Haydon. 
The  moment  the  Whigs  saw  that  the  exhibition  did  not  take, 
they  began  to  abuse  the  picture,  and  "  cut  "  the  painter.  This 
was  judicious,  but  not  magnanimous.  Yet  Haydon  could  have 
borne  the  loss  without  danger  if  the  Corporation  of  the  City 
of  London  had  kept  faith  with  him,  and  taken  a  copy  of  Lord 
Grey's  picture  as  they  had  originally  agreed.  But,  to  their 
great  disgrace,  the  Corporation  followed  suit  with  the  "Whigs, 
and  I  regret  to  feel  compelled  to  apply  such  a  term  to  the 
Lord  Mayor  and  Corporation  of  the  City  of  London,  that 
"  model  for  the  municipalities  of  Europe  " — but  they  broke 
faith  with  the  painter  in  the  meanest  manner,  dishonour- 
ably shirked  out  of  their  promise,  and  never  offered  him  the 
slightest  compensation.  Haydon  had  trusted  implicitly  to 
their  honour,  and  they  soiled  and  disgraced  it. 

The  moment  Lord  Althorp  heard  of  his  troubles,  he  came 
forward  with  his  great,  broad,  good  heart,  said  he  could  not 
afford  to  do  much,  but  he  would  buy  all  the  chalk  drawings  of 
the  sitters  in  Lord  Grey's  picture,  and  make  a  gallery  of  them 
at  Althorp,  but  Attwood  and  the  Birmingham  League  he 
would  have  none  of.  This  was  a  help,  and  Haydon  bore  Lord 
Althorp  in  grateful  remembrance  all  his  life.  But  the  rest  of 
the  Whig  party  did  nothing.  The  Toiies  say  it  is  their  practice 
to  desert  their  friends.  They  had  honoured  him  by  allowing 
him  to  paint  their  portraits,  for  which  they  had  paid  nothing, 
and  that  should  be  sufficient.  Lord  Grey,  with  his  large  family 
and  many  claims,  could  do  no  more  than  he  did.    Lord  Pal- 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


merston  contemplated  a  commission,  but  somehow  he  never 
got  beyond  the  contemplation.  And  thus  Haydon  was  left  in 
the  lurch,  and  to  bear  the  loss  incurred  by  the  exhibition  of 
the  picture.  Now,  2 18?.  taken  out  of  5  Lbl.  for  nineteen  months' 
work  is  a  serious  matter.  Even  if  we  add  the  200  guineas  Lord 
Althorp  paid  for  the  drawings,  it  yet  leaves  Haydon  something 
under  15s.  a  day  for  his  nineteen  months'  labour,  and  to  find 
his  own  materials.  Decidedly  the  Whigs  were  a  worse  pay- 
master than  Sir  Eobert  Peel.  He  at  least  gave  Haydon  a 
journeyman  painter's  wages.  Edward  Ellice,  one  of  the  lead- 
ing men  of  the  Whigs,  had  assured  Haydon  that  the  "  Party  " 
would  not  let  him  sink,  and  had  sent  Haydon  50/.  himself.  In 
his  later  extremity  Haydon  turns  to  his  distinguished  friend. 
What  follows  is  given  in  his  Journal  with  touching  simplicity. 
On  the  close  of  the  exhibition  he  writes  to  Edward  Ellice, 
"The  exhibition  has  failed,  with  a  loss  of  218/."  Edward 
Ellice  replies,  "  I  can  give  you  no  advice."  As  claims  and 
embarrassments  and  lawyers'  threats  close  on  him,  Haydon 
writes  again,  reminding  Mr.  Ellice  of  his  promise,  and  pite- 
ously  adds,  "  Don't  let  me  sink."  He  gets  no  answer.  Again 
he  writes,  "  I  am  sinking,"  and  Edward  Ellice,  putting  on 
his  hat.  goes  out  to  take  a  stroll  in  the  park,  telling  his  son, 
"  Write  to  Haydon,  and  say  I  have  gone  down  to  the  House." 
When  Vittoria  Colonna  received  news  that  her  husband, 
Francesco,  was  desperately  wounded,  in  great  distress,  and  a 
prisoner  at  Ravenna,  she  immediately  addressed  him  in  thirty- 
seven  stanzas  of  terza  rima,  and  remained,  at  ease,  at  home  in 
her  villa  at  Pietralba.  I  dare  say  my  father  was  as  much  com- 
forted as  Francesco. 

At  length,  in  July,  1834.  when  being  cruelly  pressed  by 
attorneys  on  all  sides,  the  Duke  of  Sutherland,  out  of  sheer 
pity,  gives  him  a  400  guinea  commission  for  '  Cassandra.'  "  But 
for  this  commission,"  writes  Haydon,  somewhat  unnecessarily, 
"  I  should  have  been  crushed."  On  the  3rd  September,  the 
Dul<e  sends  him,  at  his  earnest  request,  100Z.  "  in  advance." 
Here  was  the  mischief.  He  was  always  taking  drafts  on  the 
labour  of  time  to  come.  Yet  this  100Z.  was  only  in  time  to  save 
him,  for  immediately  after  the  arrival  of  the  letter  enclosing 
the  Duke's  cheque,  an  execution  is  put  in  by  order  of  the 
Whig  Treasury,  for  arrears  of  taxes.  The  Whig  finance  in 
those  days  seldom  had  a  balance  and  could  not  afford  to  forbear. 


176 


MEMOIR  OF 


The  duke's  advance  is  soon  paid  away — 2C07.  follow  in  the 
same  course,  a  vast  proportion  of  it  going  to  the  attorneys  for 
their  law  costs, — and  by  the  end  of  the  year,  when  '  Cassandra  ' 
is  finished,  Haydon  has  only  a  small  balance  to  receive,  and  no 
further  employment  in  view. 

In  the  earlier  part  of  this  year  Haydon  had  put  down  his 
name  for  the  Professorship  of  Design  at  the.  London  University. 
The  Council  conceiving  that  a  man  who  had  been  imprisoned 
for  debt  would  injure  the  moral  purity  of  this  institution, 
resolved  to  reject  him,  and  began  to  shuffle.  Haydon  at  once 
withdrew  his  name  and  gave  the  Council  his  opinion  of  their 
conduct.  On  the  16th  of  October,  however,  an  event  had 
occurred  which  must  not  be  passed  over ;  the  Houses  of  Parlia- 
ment were  burned  clown.  Three  days  after,  Haydon  had  a  long 
conversation  with  Lord  Melbourne,  then  Prime  Minister,  and  got 
from  him  an  assurance  that  Haydon's  idea  of  uniting  painting, 
sculpture,  and  architecture  in  the  new  Houses  should  "  not  be 
hopeless."  As  soon  as  the  Building  Committee  was  appointed, 
Haydon,  on  a  hint  from  Lord  Melbourne,  presented  a  petition 
to  Parliament,  through  Lord  Morpeth  (Cth  March,  1>3.3;, 
praying  the  House  to  order  that  "spaces  be  left  in  the  new 
building  for  the  commemoration,  by  painting,  of  the  national 
triumphs,"  and  urging  the  Committee  to  consider  "  the  vast 
benefits  which  may  accrue  to  the  arts  and  manufactures  of  this 
country  if  this  favourable  moment  be  seized  for  the  encourage- 
ment of  historical  painting." 

The  House  approved  of  the  petition,  and  directed  it  to  be 
sent  up  to  the  Building  Committee.  Haydon  had  hopes,  but 
he  also  had  grave  doubts.  "  The  worst  of  it  is,"  he  writes, "  the 
art  is  considered  but  as  an  embellishment,  a  sort  of  gilding, 
nothing  more."  These  fears  have  proved,  I  think,  to  be 
thoroughly  well  founded,  if  we  may  judge  at  all  by  the  num- 
ber of  pretty  picture-book  pictures  on  the  walls  of  our  great 
Talace. 

The  year  183")  was  to  Haydon  a  year  of  terrible  struggle, 
harass,  irritation,  threats  of  execution,  and  actual  execution 
for  "  arrears  of  taxes."  Full  of  what  he  calls  "  heart-breaking- 
apprehensions  seizing  me  at  intervals  of  thought,"  he  was 
never  for  one  moment  free  from  that  supreme  curse  of  having 
to  make  every  sovereign  he  got  do  the  work  of  ten,  and  was 
driven  to  every  extremity  in  life  to  get  that  one.    "  Why  do 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


177 


they  not  employ  me  ?  "  he  says  mournfully  one  clay  to  Lord 
Durham,  with  whom  he  was  very  intimate.  "  Why  ? "  says 
Lord  Durham,  "  111  tell  you  why  ;  they  can't  afford  it.  The 
greater  part  of  the  nobility  of  this  country  is  insolvent" 
"  But  they  marry  and  mend  their  fortunes,"  expostulated 
Haydon.  "  No,"  said  Lord  Durham,  "  not  a  bit  of  it,  my  dear 
friend  ;  their  marriages  are  on  credit,  like  everything  else  about 
them  "  Lord  Durham  had  no  higher  opinion  of  his  noble 
friends  than  Lord  Byron  of  his  ;  but,  unlike  Byron  with  his 
poor  companions,  Lord  Durham  forgot  to  redeem  their  cha- 
racter by  employing  Haydon  himself.  His  curious  amusement 
seems  to  have  been  to  say  disagreeable  things  to  his  am  able 
wife  in  Haydon's  presence,  and  to  look  on  at  Haydon  painting 
and  starving,  and  watch  how  long  his  noble  friends  would  leave 
him  unaided  and  alone  to  struggle. 

With  all  his  wealth  I  cannot  see  that  he  ever  did  anything 
for  Haydon  except  give  him  his  portrait,  and  once  send  him 
thirty  guineas  for  a  chalk  sketch  of  her  favourite  boy,  which 
Haydon  had  made  a  present  to  Lady  Durham.  He  vexed  the 
painter  sadly  in  so  doing ;  but  this  was  the  man.  He  would 
not  employ  him,  but  he  would  accept  no  presents. 

Haydon  was  now  in  his  fiftieth  year,  (as  1  well  remember  him,) 
a  handsome,  fresh-coloured,  robust,  little  man,  with  a  big  bald 
head,  small  ears,  aquiline  features,  a  peculiarly  short  upper  lip, 
and  a  keen,  restless,  azure-grey  eye,  the  pupil  of  which  contracted 
and  expanded,  rose  and  fell  as  he  talked,  just  as  if  some  inner 
light  and  fire  was  playing  on  his  brain.  He  was  a  very  active 
man;  motion  was  his  repose.  In  fact,  he  lived  in  a  hurricane, 
and  fattened  on  anxiety  and  care.  He  carried  himself  up- 
rightly and  stamped  his  little  feet  upon  the  ground,  as  if  he 
revelled  in  the  consciousness  of  existence,  especially  in  an  E.N.E. 
wind,  meeting  him,  at  his  own  corner,  in  the  month  of  February.* 

*  This  love  for  fresli  air  he  carried  to  an  excels  in  his  own  house,  and  sometimes 
in  those  of  other  persons.  It  was  quite  his  hobby,  as  well  as  his  suspicion  of  a 
damp  bed.  Wherever  he  visited  he  always  did  two  tilings:  he  opened  all  the 
windows,  and,  summer  or  winter,  lighting  his  bedroom  fire  he  aired  his  sheets  and 
mattress.  The  late  Lord  Egremont  used  to  tell  u  story  of  him  on  his  arrival  at 
Petworth  the  first  n;ght.  Dinner  was  announced,  and  Haydon,  who  had  been  in 
the  library,  had  suddenly  disappeared.  Seaich  was  made  for  him,  and  he  was 
found  in  his  bedroom  with  his  evening  coat  Cirefully  taken  off,  and  his  great  coat 
buttoned  round  him,  pulling  his  bed  to  pieces,  hauling  out  blankets,  sheets, 
mattr.  ss,  and  pillows,  and  spreading  them  over  the  backs  of  the  chairs  before  the 
huge  fire  lie  had  lighted.  He  had  torgotteu  to  do  it  before  be  came  down.  The 
late  Sir  Peter  Fairbairn,  of  Leeds,  used  to  tell  a  very  similar  story  of  him  at 
VOL.  L  N 


78 


MEMOIR  OF 


He  was  always  a  poor  man,  prudent  and  economical  in  his  own 
expenditure,  jealous  of  anything  that  bore  the  appearance  of 
unnecessary  .expense,  but  most  generous  to  others.  He  was 
strongly  attached  to  his  home  and  family,  peculiarly  tender  and 
watchful  in  illness,  and  a  most  devoted  husband.  Asa  father 
he  was  anxious,  far  beyond  the  common  run  of  parents,  for  the 
moral  and  intellectual  progress  of  his  children,  always  insisting 
upon  the  necessity  of  keeping  in  view  high  objects  of  ambition, 
in  preference  to  mere  worldly  advancement,  and  of  placing  the 
attainment  of  a  great  public  object  above  the  level  of  "  making 
money."  The  "  comfortable  "  folks  of  course  thought,  and  still 
think  him  a  fool.    They  are  welcome  to  their  opinion. 

In  his  own  home  Haydon  was  habitually  taciturn,  except  on 
rare  occasions,  preferring  the  silence  of  his  own  thoughts  to 
conversation  with  his  family.  In  society,  particularly  that  of 
his  juniors,  his  talk  was  chiefly  anecdotal ;  and  from  the  number 
of  men  with  whom  he  had  associated  in  early  life,  and  his  power 
of  vivid  narration,  his  stories  were  peculiarly  interesting.  He 
was  not  ready  in  argument,  rather  resenting  a  strongly-expressed 
difference  of  opinion  as  "  disturbing  his  ideas  "  on  the  subject 
on  which  discussion  had  been  attempted.  But  now  and  then, 
among  his  equals,  one  of  those  utterances,  "  deep,  lucid,  and 
exhaustive,  which  it  is  given  only  to  genius  to  enunciate,"  con- 
centrating into  a  single  brilliant  sentence  the  thought  and 
experience  of  years,  would  startle  into  temporary  silence  the 
more  fluent  and  practised  talkers  among  whom  it  was  carelessly 
thrown,  to  be  accepted,  or  neglected,  or  rejected,  as  fortune 
might  decide. 

To  his  servants  and  all  about  him  Haydon  was  habitually 
kind  and  indulgent.  He  possessed  in  a  rare  degree,  and  in 
spite  of  a  hasty  temper  and  a  rather  dangerous  candour,  the 

Wooilsley.  There  was  no  hirm  in  this;  but  his  habit  of  opening  windows  in 
other  persons' houses  sometimes  got  him  into  a  scrape.  One  day  he  was  calling 
on  Dr.  Elliotson  in  town.  "  Pugh,"  he  said  to  himself  as  he  was  shown  into  the 
room,  "  how  can  he  live  in  such  air?  '  and  walking  to  the  window  he  unfastened 
it,  flung  it  open,  and  began  to  breathe  more  freely.  Dr.  Elliotson  was  a  chilly 
man,  and  hated  open  windows.  Presently  the  door  swung  aside  gently,  and  the 
doctor  slipped  in,  on  the  halls  of  his  toes,  like  something  feline.  "Ah,  my  dear 
Haydon,  how  are  you  Good  God,  what's  that  I  Eh— what— an  open  window  ! 
Who  has  dared  ?" — and,  ringing  the  bell  furiously,  t!iere  ensued  a  scene  between 
the  doctor  and  his  man  worthy  of  Moliere.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  Haydon  gave 
the  footman  a  sovereign,  but  he  more  probably  l  a  i  not  got  it  to  give.  Another 
time  he  indulged  himself  at,  1  think,  Lord  "Yarmouth  s,  in  the  same  manner. 
Lord  Yarmouth,  if  it  was  he,  caught  him  in  the  act,  and  Walking  to  the  window 
slammed  it  down  again,  and  then  politely  entered  iuto  conversation.— Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


'79 


power  of  winning  and  preserving  the  love  and  respect  of  all 
who  knew  him  well.  He  was  enthusiastically  devoted  to  his 
art,  which  he  cultivated  with  the  severest  industry  and  research.* 
Nothing  escaped  him ;  indeed,  he  was  eminently  truthful  in 
all  things.  I  do  not  believe  he  would  have  told  a  falsehood, 
even  on  his  oath. 

And  he  was  one  of  those  men  of  profound  heart  to  whom 
religion  is  a  necessity  of  daily  existence.  Both  in  adversity 
and  prosperity  his  piety  was  real.  Tom  Taylor  has  said  of  him 
that  his  religiousness  is  "  puzzling "  and  his  prayers  "  cha- 
racteristic." But  of  what?  Of  the  strongest  desire  to  over- 
come inherent  tendencies  to  evil,  and  of  an  intense  conviction 
that  moral  rectitude  is  only  to  be  obtained  by  prayer.  Just  as 
President  De  Thou  used  daily  to  pray  God  to  "purify"  his 
heart  from  all  "partiality  and  personal  dislike,"  and  "bend" 
him  "  to  truth  "  amidst  the  contending  political  factions  of  the 
French  Parliament  over  which  he  presided,  so  did  Haydon 
hourly  pray  God  to  guide  him  aright,  to  turn  his  heart  from 
evil,  and  keep  his  feet  from  falling,  and  give  him  strength  to 
maintain  the  truth,  and  grant  success  to  his  projects  for  the 
sake  of  the  art  of  his  great  country.  To  my  mind  Haydon's 
prayers  are  quite  intelligible.  They  show  his  keen  sense  of 
his  own  imperfections  and  unworthiness,  his  deep  love  for  his 
Art,  his  passionate  efforts  and  conflicts  to  reach  purity  of 
heart,  his  awful  reverence,  his  unreserved  adoration  for  the 
Almighty,  and  his  firm  belief  that  God  could  be  induced  by 
fervent  prayer  not  only  to  comfort,  encourage,  and  console 
the  heart  of  a  believer,  but  to  "  raise  up  "  for  him  unknown 
friends,  and  even  suspend  natural  laws  in  his  favour.    I  admit 

*  I  have  seen  the  accusation  made  against  Haydon  tliat  he  was  "  an  idle  man," 
and  frequently  indulged  himself  in  "  fits  of  idleness."  Tins  is  a  silly  bit  of  fault- 
finding. Who  has  not  "tits  of  idleness,"  tits  of  depression,  fits  of  a  sluggish 
condition  of  brain  in  which  you  seein  to  have  no  sense  of  duty  in  life  ?  But  these 
do  not  make  us  idle  men.  Haydon  had  fewer  fits  of  the  kind  than  .my  man  I 
ever  knew:  his  liver  was  always  in  such  good  trim.  ALstention  from  actual 
painting  in  a  man  of  Haydon's  invention  does  nut  imply  idleness.  I  doubt  if  such 
a  man  is  ever  vacant-minded.  Haydon  carri.  d  his  art  about  with  him  everywhere, 
and  was  always  designing  and  conceiving  "  effects."  It  is  told  of  Doineuichino 
that  his  patron  once  rinding  him  not  painting  reproached  him  for  his  "idleness." 
"  Basta,  Basta ! "  retorted  Ihe  painter  ;  "  io  la  stu  continuamente  dipingendo  enlro 
di  me,"  and  so  is  every  paint,  r  of  imagination.  A  great  painting  is  like  a  fine 
epic  poem.  The  fire  and  energy  of  a  first  conception  rxcites,  and  then  exhausts 
the  mind.  No  man  can  accomplish  such  a  work  straight  on  end,  day  by  day.  It 
must  be  studied,  laid  aside,  and  again  renewed,  with  time  enough  in  the  intervals 
to  allow  the  imagination  to  cuol. — Ed. 

N  2 


i8o 


MEMOIR  OF 


his  prayers  contrast  strangely  and  painfully  with  the  outward 
and  passionate  agitations  of  his  professional  life,  yet  they  tell  us 
how  present  to  his  mind  was  this  "invisible  hut  living  God,"  who 
'•  layeth  the  beams  of  His  chambers  in  the  waters,  and  maketh 
the  clouds  His  chariot."  He  saw  God  daily,  enduring  as  seeing 
one  that  is  Invisible.  It  was  to  His  will  he  ascribed  everything. 
He  even  heard  "voices"- — that  was  the  way  he  personified 
conscience — constraining  him  to  do  his  duty,  and  he  believed 
himself  to  be  a  man  to  whose  fate  a  mysterious  importance 
attached.  He  lived,  in  fact,  in  an  atmosphere  of  extraordinary 
interferences,  and  miraculous  inspirations,  intimations,  and 
presentiments.  He  notes  in  his  journals  from  time  to  time  the 
successive  ruin  and  degradation  of  men  who  had  helped  to  ruin 
and  oppress  him.  All  this  shows  what  a  strong  affinity  there 
was  in  his  mind  to  the  best  part  of  the  old  Puritan,  though 
without  his  austerity  or  intolerance. 

On  the  subject  of  the  inspiration  of  the  Bible  he  refused  to 
have  any  doubts.  The  accidents  cf  poetic  or  legendary  exag- 
geration were,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  separated  in  his  mind 
from  the  essential  truths,  and  he  rated  the  Epistles  far  below 
the  Gospel.  In  this  he  saw  the  inspiration  of  the  Spirit  of 
God,  and  he  felt  sure  the  voice  of  God  spoke  to  us  therein, 
furnishing  to  us  all  rules,  principles,  and  laws  of  conduct 
sufficient  to  guide  us  under  every  circumstance  of  life.* 

In  politics  Haydon  was  not  a  party  man.  Heart  and  soul  an 
aristocrat,  that  is  to  say,  in  the  sense  of  always  giving  to  the; 
best  men,  whether  by  intellect,  rank,  or  wealth,  the  greatest 
influence,  his  hatred  of  injustice,  wrong,  and  jobbery  was  so 
strong,  he  would  go  great  lengths  to  root  them  out. 

In  music  he  had  a  fine  taste,  and  preferred  Haydn,  Handel, 
and  Mozart  to  all  the  rest.  Of  Beethoven  he  knew  little.  To 
the  English  theatres  he  seldom  went  in  his  later  years.  He 
preferred  the  French  plays,  enjoying  the  polished  dialogue 
and  perfect  acting  there.  He  was  once  induced  by  one  of  the 
family  to  go  and  see  Macready  in  '  Lear.'    He  sat  out  the  first 

*  One  charneteii>tic  trait  I  must  not  omit.  Whenever  he  read  prayers  at  home 
to  us,  lie  always  studiously  lelt  out  that  prayer  in  the  Litany  for  "  enduing  tho 
Lords  of  the  Council  with  grace,  wisdom,  and  understanding  ; ''  but  I  never  heard 
his  reason.  He  always,  however,  interpolated  a  petition  for  his  own  "  health  and 
strength— /or  the  sake  of  the  Art  of  my  country."  This  was  never  omitted  ,  and 
the  record  of  it  may  perhaps  help  to  show  that  his  < Units  were  direct,  d  at  least 
as  fully  towards  the  advancement  of  English  Historical  Tainting  as  towards  hie 
own. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


1S1 


act,  and  then  went  away,  saying  he  could  not  stand  any  more 
of  it.  He  afterwards  ridiculed  the  whole  thing,  comparing 
Macready  to  a  machine  wound  up  to  go  through  a  certain 
representation,  and  every  night  in  the  same  part  performing 
exactly  the  same  movements,  and  making  exactly  the  same 
noises.  Edmund  Kean,  he  maintained,  never  played  the  same 
part  twice  in  the  same  way.  The  same  thing  was  true,  he  also 
said,  of  Mrs.  Siddons.  Of  John  Kemble  the  machine  theory 
was  always  true.  Haydon  had  studied  Edmund  Kean  from  his 
first  appearance  in  '  Richard  III.'  in  all  his  great  parts  in  his 
best  days.  Mr.  Lewes,  who  allows  that  he  only  saw  Kean  in 
his  later  and  feebler  days,  asserts,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
Kean  never  trusted  to  the  "  inspiration  of  the  moment."  This 
is  probably  true  of  Eean's  later  period,  when  his  intemperate 
habits  had  obscured  his  fine  genius,  and  he  could  no  longer 
rely  upon  the  advent  of  the  divine  afflatus  at  the  right  instant. 
But  Edmund  Kean,  (as  he  remembered  him )  and  Mrs.  Siddons, 
were  Hay  don's  faith. 

One  curious  trait  about  him  I  remember  was  his  sanguine 
buoyancy.  Nothing  ever  depressed  him  for  long.  If  one  effort 
failed,  he  would  try  another  in  a  different  direction.  He  was  the 
most  persevering,  indomitable  man  I  ever  met.  With  us  at  home 
he  was  always  confident  of  "  doing  better  next  year."  But  that 
next  year  never  came.  It  was  the  "  Jack  Snipe  "  of  his  existence ; 
for  in  this  respect,  poor  fellow,  he  was  like  that  man  whose 
shooting  for  many  seasons,  Fonblanque  tells  us,  was  devoted 
with  great  constancy  to  the  death  of  one  Jack  Snipe,  which, 
after  all,  outlived  him.  Every  year  Haydon  had  his  shot,  and 
every  year,  someliow  or  other,  his  bird  escaped.  Now  it  was  the 
Beform  Bill— then  a  crisis  in  the  City — then  the  failure  of  a 
patron — then  a  change  of  ministers ;  and  so  it  went  on,  and  the 
good  luck  got  off.  He  would  never  acknowledge  to  us  what  he 
knew  to  be  the  true  explanation,  that  his  aim  was  too  high  to 
bring  down  a  bird  that  flew  so  capriciously,  and  so  low. 

The  range  of  Haydon's  sympathies  was  very  wide.  I  know 
nothing  that  did  not  interest  him,  except  Mathematics,  which 
he  detested,  and  tne  political  economists — the  gentlemen  who 
think  the  world  is  to  be  saved  by  a  sixpenny  pamphlet — and 
these  he  confessed  he  could  not  understand.  He  knew  more 
about  ships,  and  forts,  and  guns,  and  the  movements  of  troops, 
than  most  naval  and  military  amateurs  :  but  he  had  no  knowledge 


182 


■MEMOIR  OF 


of  science,  and  never  pretended  to  it.  He  had  a  great  love 
for  horses  and  dogs,  and  was  a  sound  judge  of  the  points  of 
each.*  I  believe  him  to  have  kept  greyhounds,  and  coursed 
them  under  tin  assumed  name.  But  he  never  betted,  gambled, 
played  cards  or  billiards,  and  had  a  perfect  honor  of  club-life. 

He  was  deeply  read  in  the  literature  of  his  art.  His  favourite 
authors  were  Shakespeare,  Milton,  Dante,  Byron.  Shakespeare 
he  placed  far  above  all  "  merely  human"  writers  ;  in  fact,  next 
to  Holy  Scripture  itself.  He  constantly  referred  to  him,  and 
constantly  quoted  him,  and  his  quotations  were  never  common- 
place. He  never,  however,  discussed  the  plays  as  organic 
wholes,  but  seemed  to  love  to  dwell  on  "  touches  of  nature,"  on 
"  beauties  of  expression,"  and  on  the  practical  wisdom  of  in- 
cidental sayings.  After  these  first  favourites  came  Fielding, 
Richardson,  Cervantes,  Scott.  Wordsworth  and  Keats  he 
praised  rather  than  studied,  at  least  in  his  later  years.  Bis 
admiration  of  them  was  no  doubt  influenced  by  personal 
friendship,  which  did  not  allow  him  to  admit  the  obvious 
defects  of  either.  Bosw  ell's  '  Life  of  Johnson  '  was  with  him, 
as  with  most  of  us,  the  "  first  of  biographies."  Next  to  it, 
he  valued  Eckermann's  'Conversations  with  Goethe.'  With 
modern  English  writers  he  had  a  fair  acquaintance.  But  his 
tastes  here  appeared  to  be  capricious.  He  never  succeeded, 
for  instance,  in  appreciating  Tennyson,  whom  he  condemned 
as  obscure  and  "  affected."  Yet  he  overcame  his  prejudice 
against  Carlyle,  which  was  based  on  similar  grounds ;  and,  once 
conquered,  it  was  soon  succeeded  by  warm  admiration.  He 
read  and  re-read  the  '  French  Revolution  '  several  times  in  the 
last  year  of  his  life.  Mr.  Pickwick,  too  (accidentally  picked 
up  by  one  of  his  sons  at  the  house  of  his  old  friend  W. 
Hamilton,  who  rebuked  the  lad  for  "wasting  time  over  that 
trash  "),  once  known,  completely  fascinated  him  ;  and  old  Mr. 
Wellerand  his  son  Sam  became  two  of  Haydon's"  heroes."  He 
was  so  delighted  with  4  Coningsby  '  that  he  could  not  refrain 
from  expressing  his  gratification  in  a  letter  to  its  distinguished 

*  I  remember  when  'John  Mytton's  Life '  came  out,  I  took  it  to  bed  with  mt 
to  read  the  next  morning.  When  I  awoke  'John  Mytton '  was  not  under  my 
pillow  !  I  searched  the  room  all  round,  and  it  was  gone.  I  dressed  in  a  heat,  and 
lan  downstairs  to  look  for  my  hero.  As  I  passed  the  painting-room  door,  I 
heard  a  laugh!  I  opened  the  door  gnllv,  looked  in,  and  there  was  my  lather 
enj..ying  'John  Mytton.'  He  had  abstracted  it  from  under  my  pillow  the  night 
bci'oio,  and  gut  up  eaily  to  read  it  through  himself. -Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


i»3 


author,  which  was  acknowledge  !  in  person  by  Mrs.  Disraeli 
with  whom  he  had  a  long  and  interesting  conversation.  He 
was,  in  fact,  so  far  as  time  and  eyesight  would  allow,  a 
diligent  student  of  literature,  ancient  and  modern,  English  and 
foreign,  preferring  to  pass  his  leisure  in  reading  to  the 
"  unidea'd  "  talk  of  ordinary  evening  parties,  or  the  "  mental 
torture"  of  whist  or  chess.  In  modern  history  and  politics 
he  was  well  informed.  I  think  he  had  read  everything  that 
had  ever  been  written  of  Napoleon,  Nelson,  Collingwood,  and 
the  Duke,  and  he  had  gained  much  curious  and  authentic 
detail  from  his  intercourse  with  men  of  the  day. 

In  his  professional  career  he  was  nobly  free  from  professional 
jealousy,  that  secret  source  of  so  many  of  the  aberrations 
of  the  best  men.  He  was  too  clear-hearted  to  deny  a  man  the 
praise  that  was  his  due.  And  it  must  be  admitted  his  gene- 
rosity was  put  to  a  severe  test,  for  he  saw  those  who  owed  the 
means  of  their  success  in  life  to  him,  pass  him  in  the  race.  Yet 
he  saw  it  without  repining  and,  except  in  one  instance,  that  of 
Landseer,  his  journals  do  not  contain  one  word  which  would 
imply  that  he  resented,  as  so  many  unsuccessful  men  do  resent, 
the  greater  success  of  those  whom  he  had  trained.  He  made 
vigorous  criticisms  upon  what  he  did  not  like  in  other  men's 
work,  and  refused  to  tone  down  those  opinions  in  order  to 
escape  the  imputation  of  jealousy.  It  was  not  the  man  but 
the  art  Hay  don  always  looked  at,  and  his  professional  judgment 
was  unbiassed,  sound,  and  comprehensive.  But  when  he  spoke 
of  the  Royal  Academy  and  their  treatment  of  him  and  other 
painters,  I  must  admit  his  judicial  calmness  would  occasionally 
get  upset.  Yet  his  deliberate  opinions  were  always  candid  and 
fair,  and  he  did  individual  artists  full  justice. 

Because  he  spoke  vehemently  on  subjects  upon  which  he  felt 
deeply,  the  world  has  set  him  down  as  a  prejudiced  and  one-sided 
man.  But  he  was  not  so.  The  world  is  too  apt  to  believe  that 
moderation  in  language  and  much  worldly  prudence  is  a  guaran- 
tee for  sound  judgment ;  but  that  rests  on  quite  a  different  basis. 

In  his  painting-room,*  Haydon  was  thoroughly  and  essen- 
tially a  happy  man.  There  he  lived  in  an  ideal  world,  whose 
language  was  not  speech,  but  form  and  colour.     He  had 

*  This  room,  the  front  drawing-room  of  the  house  in  Burwood  Plnce,  was  so 
small — thu  back  room  being  occupied  as  the  casts  and  colour  room — it  is  sur- 
prising how  he  ever  succeeded  in  painting  for  a  distance.  It  was  quite  impos- 
sible to  calculate  the  etiect. — Ed. 


MEMOIR  OF 


the  mind  of  a  poet,  and  he  possessed  the  capacity  of  com- 
plete abstraction  from  all  interrupting  ideas.  God  had  gifted 
him  with  this,  or  he  never  could  have  borne  the  life  that 
was  his  lot  so  long.  His  practice  was,  after  settling  the 
composition,  to  make  an  oil  sketch,  and  from  this  to 
roughly  sketch  or  scumble  in  with  umber  upon  his  large 
canvas,  the  whole  of  the  subject  he  intended  to  paint.  This 
rarely  took  him  more  than  one  day.  When  this  was  dry  he 
would  commence  with  the  head  of  one  of  the  principal  figures, 
or  of  the  principal  figure,  and  complete  it  at  a  sitting.  Thus 
day  by  day  he  would  go  through  the  picture,  finishing  as 
he  went  along,  reserving  to  himself,  however,  the  right  of 
heightening  his  colours  or  deepening  his  shades  at  the  final 
glazing.  What  struck  me  most  with  his  painting,  as  com- 
pared with  what  I  can  remember  of  Wilkie,  and  have  ob- 
served in  others,  was  the  marvellous  rapidity  with  which 
he  worked,  and  the  intense  precision  of  his  touch;  although 
there  was  often  a  period  when  the  result  he  aimed  at  was 
not  secured,  and  this  gave  him  great  agitation.  But  with 
all  that,  his  painting  was  singularly  swift :  it  was  as  if  he 
had  seen  in  his  mind's  eye  the  effect  of  every  touch  before 
he  set  his  palette.  He  certainly  never  painted  any  subject 
that  he  had  not  long  thought  out.  Then  when  he  took  his 
brush  in  his  hand,  his  mind  overflowed,  he  flew  at  his  work  like 
a  man  inspired  with  fiery  impulse,  talking  to  himself  in  a 
rapid  whisper,  and,  utterly  lost  to  all  the  world  around,  gave 
reins  to  his  enthusiasm.  He  never  seemed  for  a  moment  to 
naggle  or  hesitate.  If  the  result  was  not  satisfactory,  he 
became  greatly  agitated.  I  have  seen  big  drops  of  perspi- 
ration come  out  on  his  brow.  Another  touch  or  two,  and 
then,  perhaps,  he  would  dash  it  all  out,  and  breathe  again 
freely.  In  painting  the  human  form,  or  that  of  animals,  he 
had  always  the  living  model  before  him.  His  horses  were 
brought  into  the  house,  and  stabled  for  the  day  on  the  ground- 
floor.  Every  day's  work  was  painted  straight  off  and  done  with. 
He  ground  his  own  colours  and  set  his  own  palette  before  break- 
fast. He  mixed  his  tints  upon  his  palette,  and  completed 
his  work  wet.  After  he  had  hit  the  exact  expression  he 
wanted,  he  would  never  touch  it  again,  but  swish  down  his 
palette  and  brushes  and  say,  "  There,  thirty  years  of  experience 
are  in  that,  and  yet  how  infinitely  below  what  I  aim  at !  But  I 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


1S5 


shall  not  do  better."  And  then  he  would  fling  open  the 
shutters  and  begin  to  write. 

His  method  of  painting  was  his  own.  His  natural  sight 
was  of  little  or  no  use  to  him  at  any  distance,  and  he  would 
wear,  one  pair  over  the  other,  sometimes  two  or  three  pairs  of 
large  round  concave  spectacles,  so  powerful  as  greatly  to 
diminish  objects.  He  would  mount  his  steps,  look  at  you 
through  one  pair  of  glasses,  then  push  them  all  well  back  on 
his  head,  and  jjaint  by  his  naked  eye  close  to  the  canvas. 
After  some  minutes  he  would  pull  down  one  pair  of  his  glasses, 
look  at  you,  then  step  down,  walk  slowly  backwards  to  the 
wall,  and  study  the  effect  through  the  one,  two,  or  three  pairs 
of  spectacles  ;  then,  with  one  pair  only,  look  long  and  steadily 
in  the  looking-glass  at  the  side  to  examine  the  reflection  of 
his  work ;  then  mount  his  steps,  and  paint  again.  How  he 
ever  contrived  to  paint  a  head  or  a  limb  in  proportion  is  a 
mystery  to  me,  for  it  is  clear  that  he  had  lost  his  natural 
sight  in  boyhood.  Without  his  glasses  he  could  see  nothing 
distinctly.  He  is,  as  he  said,  the  first  blind  man  who  ever 
successfully  painted  pictures.  But  then  he  left  nothing  to 
chance.  He  was  singularly  careful  in  his  arrangements  of  your 
position  and  drapery,  and  often  studied  you  for  long  before  he 
began  to  paint ;  and  would  make  many  changes,  so  as  to  get 
harmony  of  light  and  shadow.*  He  strongly  disapproved  of 
hoarding  up  a  picture  until  finished.  It  should  be  shown,  he 
thought,  in  progress ;  and  he  always  admitted  uneducated  as 
well  as  refined  persons  of  taste.  "  The  instinctive  feeling  of 
the  untutored,"  he  would  say,  "  is  often  to  be  preferred  to  the 
delusions  of  mere  artists."  The  unbiassed  decision  of  the 
masses  whose  heart  was  touched,  he  thought  a  safer  guide 
than  the  fastidious  criticism  of  insipid  dilettanti.  Of  critics, 
in  general,  Haydon  held  a  mean  opinion.  "  There  is  very 
little  sound  criticism  in  the  newspapers  upon  art,"  I  have 
heard  him  say ;  "  even  less  than  there  is  upon  literature,  and 
God  knows  that  is  little  enough.  There  is  nothing,  however 
absurd,  that  does  not  pass  through  the  head  of  an  art  critic." 
He  attributed  this  generally  to  the  same  cause  as  Mr.  Disraeli, 

*  Mr.  Redgrave,  in  Irs  '  Dictionary  of  Painters,'  asserts  that  Havdon  commenced 
his  pictures  "  without  plan  or  forethought."  This  is  wholly  incorrect.  I  do 
not  suppose  any  painter  ever  lived,  who  took  more  preparatory  pains  in  t..e  design 
of  his  works.  The  evidence  of  his  'Journals'  is  uloue  sufficient  to  refute  Mr. 
Redgrave.— Ed. 


MEMOIR  OF 


that  the  critics  were  commonly  men  who  had  tried  and  failed  in 
literature  and  art.  But  unlike  Mr.  Disraeli,  Haydon  never 
shook  himself  free  from  the  thraldom  of  their  criticism.  It 
requires  a  peculiar  temperament,  or  long  practice  in  the  disci- 
pline of  self-control.  Arthur,  Duke  of  Wellington,  and  Mr. 
Disraeli,  are  the  only  two  men  in  modern  times  who  have  set 
public  men  an  example  in  this  respect. 

Of  Haydon's  trials  and  misfortunes  I  have  spoken  suffi- 
ciently. If  poverty  is  the  greatest  of  temptations,  few  men 
ever  suffered  more  cruelly,  or  with  greater  firmness.  Since 
I  have  become  acquainted  Avith  the  facts  of  his  life  and 
the  nature  of  his  struggles,  my  wonder  is,  not  so  much  that 
he  met  with  so  many  reverses,  as  that  he  conquered  so 
much  success.  Looking  at  all  the  circumstances  of  his  life, 
he  seems  to  me  a  perfect  embodiment  of  that  admirable 
quality  of  tenacity,  so  characteristic  of  our  race.  He  is  a 
thorough-bred  Englishman.  He  never  faints,  rarely  murmurs, 
and  is  always  ready  to  wear  himself  to  death  sooner  than  yield. 
Whatever  were  his  faults,  he  was  a  fine  character  in  these 
respects.  He  had  a  noble  ambition,  and  his  life  at  this  period 
brings  out  in  strong  relief  the  courage  with  which  he  bore 
the  neglect  of  a  nobility  unworthy  of  his  genius,  and  en- 
dured those  calamities  of  fortune  their  neglect  imposed  upon 
him. 

I  must  not,  however,  conclude  this  part  of  Haydon's  career 
without  noticing  certain  defects  of  character  and  conduct 
alleged  against  him,  particularly  at  this  period.  First  among 
these  stands  his  passion  for  "  display,"  that  is,  for  theatrical 
effect.  It  is  true,  to  some  extent.  With  all  his  hatred  of  cant 
and  claptrap,  a  certain  love  for  the  trumpets'  blare  was  a  con- 
spicuous blemish  in  his  character.  I  do  not  pretend  to  deny 
it  makes  me  laugh  whenever  I  meet  with  it.  Yet  he  does  not 
stand  alone  in  this.  All  men  who  woo  the  sweet  voices  of 
the  multitude,  from  Apelles  down  to  John  Bright,  have  some- 
thing of  the  charlatan,  without  knowing  it.  Even  steady  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds  set  up  a  gaudy  carriage,  all  gilt  and  colour, 
and  sent  his  sister  Frances,  to  her  great  discomfort,  to  drive 
daily  about  town,  in  order  that  people  might  ask,  "  Whoso 
carriage  is  that?"  and  get  their  answer.  Men  of  his  calibre  do 
many  things  that  appear  absurd  and  indefensible  to  us,  and 
probably  for  no  better  reason  than  influenced  Alcibiadcs 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


187 


when  he  cut  off  his  dog's  tail.  In  the  same  manner  Haydon's 
"  advertisements"  and  "  appeals,"  and  descriptions  of  his  pic- 
tures, and  even  his  "statements"  of  his  affairs,  have  all  more 
or  less  a  touch  of  Sir  Joshua's  silver-gilt  carriage;  though 
only  a  touch,  for  Haydon  never  got  beyond  placard-men  and 
advertisements.  But  it  is  the  same  with  stump  oratory  of 
every  kind  from  any  quarter.  Appeals  of  this  nature  are 
seldom  within  the  limits  of  classical  taste,  and  are  not  in- 
frequently, as  in  Haydon's  case,  marked  by  an  indelicacy  of 
sentiment  worthy  only  of  the  English  nobility  during  the 
Protectorate,  when  they  dunned  the  French  King  to  give 
them  money.  But  with  this  difference,  that  Haydon  always 
asked  for  "  work  "  before  "  wages ; "  whereas  the  idea  of  getting 
their  own  living  did  not  occur  to  the  English  nobility.  It 
was  Haydon's  sole  ambition.  I  think,  also,  on  some  occa- 
sions, he  took  a  robust  delight  in  shocking  the  (trousered) 
"  old  ladies  " — of  literature  and  art. 

Yet  if  there  is  anything  to  feel  ashamed  of,  it  is  rather  in 
the  conduct  of  those  who  drove  him  to  such  questionable 
expedients. 

Another  fruitful  charge  alleged  against  him  is  his  "arrogance" 
and  his  "  inordinate  vanity."  Well,  which  one  amongst  us  is 
humble  ?  Humility  is  the  virtue  we  invent  for  our  neighbours. 
But  I  do  not  understand  the  charge  of  "arrogance,"  as  brought . 
against  Haydon.  Those  who  condemn  him  on  this  ground 
measure  Haydon's  views  by  their  own  narrow  judgment,  and 
condemn  him  because  he  denied  what  society  deemed  the 
highest  authority  in  art.  But  that  man  only  is  arrogant  who 
determines  to  be  at  variance  with  those  of  whom  he  thinks 
highly.  No  one  will  seriously  pretend  that  Haydon  held  a  high 
opinion  of  those  from  whom  he  differed  upon  Art,  viz.,  the  Royal 
Academy  and  "  authorities,"  i.e.  the  connoisseurs  and  critics. 

The  imputation  of  "vanity  "  may  have  more  ground.  Haydon 
was  fond  of  notice.  He  had,  I  admit,  a  passion  for  distinction ; 
but  his  critics  universally  confound  this  with  "conceit"  and  "im- 
pudence ;  "  just  as  they  confound  "  modesty"  with  "  humility  " 
— qualities  quite  distinct.  A  man  may  be  very  vain  and  very 
modest,  and  yet  neither  conceited  nor  bashful.  Haydon  set  a 
just  value  on  himself,  and  never  affected  an  inferiority  in  those 
things  in  which  he  knew  himself  to  excel.  There  is  nothing 
opposed  to  the  spirit  of  true  modesty  in  this.    We  all  of  us 


i88 


MEMOIR  OF 


feel  a  certain  pleasure  in  exclusive  possession.  We  all  of  us,  I 
believe,  "  pray  the  Lord,"  with  the  weaver  of  Kilbarcban,  "  to 
send  us  aye  guid  conceit  o'  oursels."  But  Hay  don  never  claimed 
more  than  was  his  due  :  and  this  is  my  idea  of  a  modest  man. 
He  laughed  at  his  critics,  but  this  did  not  show  his  want  of 
modesty — rather  their  want  of  knowledge.  "  If  you  wish  to 
be  praised  by  these  gentlemen,"  said  the  First  Napoleon,  "  it  is 
necessary  that  you  should  first  praise  and  reward  them,  and 
their  appetite,  I  must  admit,  is  craving  and  coarse." 

It  is  unfortunate,  but  Poetry  and  Painting  are  the  only  two 
arts  in  wbich  the  professors  are  not  sujiposed  to  know  their  own 
business  as  well  as  those  who  only  talk,  but  do  not  practise, 
men  who,  as  it  were,  hang  between  perfection  and  decay,  blown 
with  restless  vanity,  at  so  much- a  sheet,  round  about  the  pendent 
world  of  their  ambition,  like  Dryden's  spirits  of  a  middle  sort — 

"  Too  black  for  heaven,  and  yet  too  white  for  hell, 
Who  just  dropped  halfway  down,  nor  lowe  r  fell." 

When  Haydon  resisted  the  pretensions  of  these  "  half-learned 
men,"  as  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  contemptuously  calls  the  critics, 
they  attacked  him,  and  attack  him  still.  He  was,  in  fact,  in  the 
position  of  the  Independent-Liberal  who  refuses  to  submit  to 
the  dictation  of  the  local  committee.  They  attack  him,  and 
start  a  rival  candidate,  and  will  lose  a  seat  sooner  than  let  him 
in.  If  he  succeeds  in  spite  of  them,  they  attribute  bis  success 
to  any  cause  but  his  own  merits.  Thus  it  was  with  Haydon. 
He  laughed  at  the  critics ;  exposed  their  pretensions ;  took 
his  own  line,  and,  in  return,  is  boldly  condemned  as  a  "  failure," 
accused  of  "  a  ludicrous  vanity,"  of  a  "  want  of  the  modesty  of 
true  genius,"  and  of  "  seeking  his  own  glorification  in  his  art." 
&c.  &c,  all  which  cant  we  have  heard  before. 

I  feel  satisfied  whatever  gratification  Haydon  felt  at  success 
was  upon  public  more  than  on  private  grounds.  He  rejoiced 
boisterously,  because  every  success  was  a  step  further  from 
the  false  teaching  of  the  Authorities,  and  nearer  to  that  truth 
to  which  he  aimed  at  carrying  the  Nation  "His  own 
glorification  ! "  It  was  nothing  but  tbe  natural  joyfulness  of 
a  generous  heart  over  a  long-baffled  victory.  He  had  well 
earned  every  success  that  he  won,  and  he  deserved  to  enjoy 
it.  Romney,  the  artist,  said  every  painter  "  required,  almost 
daily,  a  portion  of  cheering  applause."  And  do  they  not 
deserve  it?    But  Haydon  was  "so  self-intoxicated;  he  objected 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


to  any  ciiticism  that  did  not  praise  him,  regarding  it  as 
an  attempt  to  pull  him  down."  No  ;  it  was  not  that  he 
objected  to  adverse  criticism,  if  it  were  sound  and  true,  and 
given  by  a  competent  judge  ;  but,  like  all  masters  in  their 
art,  he  objected  to  the  publication  by  editors  of  the  pompous 
nonsense  of  their  art-critics,  who  were  ignorant  that  they  were 
ignorant,  and  blundered  in  their  fault-finding. 

Hogarth,  "whose  excessive  high  opinion  of  his  own  abilities," 
says  Northcote,  "  was  a  foible,"  was  furious  at  the  censure  of 
ignorant  critics.*  Hume,  though  he  never  deigned  to  reply, 
was  cut  to  the  quick  by  hostile  criticism.  Racine  was  so  ex- 
tremely sensitive,  that  a  single  adverse  criticism  outweighed 
all  applause.  Cicero  went  so  far  as  to  insist  on  being  praised, 
even  at  the  expense  of  truth.!  Theopompus,  the  great  Greek 
orator,  when  asked  who  was  the  best  orator  of  Greece,  said,  "  of 
all  the  modern  men  I  think  I  prefer  myself."  Buffon,  con- 
ceiving his  critics  did  not  do  him  justice,  inscribed  upon  his 
own  statue,  that  "  of  the  great  men  of  modern  ages  there  were 
only  four — Bacon,  Leibnitz,  Montesquieu,  and  mvself."  The 
vanity  of  Voltaire,  De  Thou,  Hobbes,  Kepler,  Rousseau,  is 
notorious.  Garrick  used  to  write  his  own  criticisms — so  Mrs. 
Garrick  tells  us;  and  the  conceit  of  Wordsworth  was  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  traits  in  his  character.^  At  its  very  worst 
the  vanity  of  a  man  of  genius  is  more  amusing  than  offensive. 
Why  then  should  critics  take  offence  ?  They  ought  rather  to 
feel  pleasure  and  pride  in  his  success  as  a  set-off  against  their 
own  failure.  But  some  men  are  envious  of  every  effort  made 
independently  of  them  to  add  to  the  stock  of  a  Nation's 
thought,  or  win  public  approbation.  "  C'est  un  terrible  avan- 
itage  de  n'avoir  rien  fait,  mais  il  ne  faut  pas  en  abuser." 


*  When  Knmsay  wrote  a  hostile  criticism  upon  Hogarth's  '  Analysis  of  Beauty,' 
Hogarth  publicly  advertised  he  would  paint  no  more  original  pictures,  and  con- 
temptuously offers  to  present  every  purchaser  of  the  '  Analysis  of  Beauty '  with  a 
copy,  gratis,  of  Kamsey's  eighteen  penny  pamphlet. — Ed. 

t  See  his  letter  to  Lucceius. — Ed. 

j  I  remember  well  the  last  day  I  spent  with  him  at  Rydal.  I  happened  to 
speak  of  the  'critics,'  and  particularly  of  the  'Edinburgh  Review.'  It  was  hko 
putting  a  red-hot  poker  into  a  powder  barrel.  My  venerable  godfather,  with  a 
roar  like  a  lion  roused  in  his  lair,  shouted  a  "Bali  !"  that  made  the  windows 
rattle,  and  struggling  from  his  chair  he  stood  on  the  rug  facing  me  with  his 
grand  old  head  forward  on  his  chest,  and  poured  out  such  a  torrent  of  invective 
and  contempt  for  the  "  butter-paper"  of  Jeffrey,  as  compared  to  his  '  Poems,'  that 
I  likened  with  awe.  I  had  no  idea  such  force  was  in  the  old  bard.  I  would  have 
given  a  great  deal  to  have  written  down  his  words,  but  I  had  no  opporturity. 
—Ed. 


190 


MEMOIR  OF 


THE  CLOSING  SCENES. 

We  have  arrived  at  the  last  twelve  years  of  Haydon's  life. 
On  the  vote  in  Parliament  for  a  National  Gallery,  in  1832, 
whether  by  reason  of  Haydon's  direct  efforts  or  previous 
statements  I  know  not  but,  the  fact  of  our  inferiority  in  design 
to  the  French — one  of  his  favourite  examples  and  arguments — 
was  strongly  insisted  on,  was  not  denied  by  the  Government ; 
and  the  result  was,  at  last,  the  founding  of  a  National  School  of 
Design. 

In  the  scheme  for  this  school  Haydon  does  not  seem  to  have 
been  consulted  by  the  Government,  who  appear  to  have  pre- 
ferred to  leave  the  matter  in  the  hands  of  the  Koyal  Academy. 
He  looked  on  curiously  for  the  result.  In  the  course  of  1*35 
the  Government  was  delivered  of  what  he  declared  to  be  an 
abominable  abortion" — a  mass  of  radical  defects  and  mean- 
ness—a "school  of  design"  which  was  only  to  teach  pattern- 
drawing,  and  to  artisans  alone.  Haydon's  object  with  regard 
to  Schools  of  Design  was,  as  we  have  seen,  to  establish  a  great 
central  school  in  London,  independent  of  the  Koyal  Academy, 
with  branch-schools  in  the  provincial  towns  ;  the  course  of  in- 
struction in  each  to  be  the  same,  though  in  different  degrees, 
for  artist,  artisan,  and  amateur,  and  to  be  based  on  a  know- 
ledge of  the  human  form — the  source  of  all  fine  art.  All 
decorative  art,  Haydon  maintained,  that  was  not  based  on  fine 
art  was  unworthy  the  name  of  art  altogether.  "  I  wish  every 
door-painter,"  he  said,  "to  be  taught  to  design  and  draw  the 
figure;"  that  is  to  say,  he  aimed  at  making  the  humblest 
workman  acquire  a  scientific  knowledge  of  the  principles  of 
bis  work.  He  desired  to  foster  in  every  pupil  that  spirit  of 
enquiry  and  research  which  should  develope  the  highest 
skill  in  every  craft.  But  this  large  and  comprehensive  scheme, 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


which  would  have  restored  the  relations  in  which  the  Pupil 
formerly  stood  to  his  Master,  and  have  raised  a  race  of 
powerful  designers  for  art  and  manufactures,  did  not  lit  into 
the  views  of  the  bureaucrats,  nor  suit  the  interests  of  the  Royal 
Academy.  If  Haydon's  great  public  plan  were  carried  out  it 
would  substitute  Feeling  for  Rule,  it  would  also  draw  the  art- 
students  from  the  official  Academy  school,  and  lower  the  in- 
fluence and  reputation  of  the  Royal  Academy,  or  compel  its 
reform.  Both  parties  therefore  prepared  for  a  struggle.  The 
Academy  and  the  Board  of  Trade  resolved  to  stifle  Haydon's 
scheme  by  making  the  new  school  dependent  on  the  Royal 
Academy,  and,  by  strictly  maintaining  in  the  new  school,  as  in 
the  Academy  school,  the  separation  between  artist  and  artisan. 
The  artisan  was  not  to  be  taught  to  draw  the  figure,  and  the 
School  of  Design  was  to  be  kept  as  an  inferior  department  of 
the  Academy  school,  and  used  merely  for  instruction  in  block 
and  pattern  drawing.  For  this  purpose  Mr.  Poulett  Thompson, 
then  President  of  the  Board  of  Trade,  appointed  a  majority  of 
Academicians  on  the  council  of  the  new  school,  and  these 
gentlemen,  headed  by  (Haydon's  old  friends)  Chantrey  and 
Calcott,  immediately  passed  a  series  of  resolutions  excluding 
the  study  of  the  human  figure  from  the  course  of  instruction, 
and  effecting  other  arbitrary  changes  which  struck  at  every 
point  of  Haydon's  scheme.  For  example,  they  required  from 
each  student  a  written  declaration  that  he  would  not  practise 
in  England  as  a  painter  of  portrait,  history,  landscape,  or 
animal  life,  nor,  I  believe,  as  a  sculptor.  The  object  of  this  is 
clear.  It  was  to  prevent  competition  with  established  artists, 
and  to  maintain  the  official  ascendency  of  the  Royal  Academy. 

Meantime  Haydon,  hearing  of  what  it  was  intended  to  do, 
determined  to  countermine,  and  deeply.  He  besought  Ford 
Melbourne  to  grant,  and  Mr.  Ewart,  M.P.,  to  obtain,  a  Select 
Committee  to  inquire  into  "  the  best  means  for  extending  the 
knowledge  and  principles  of  art  and  design  among  the  people." 
Lord  Melbourne,  who  dreaded  anything  like  a  contest  with 
'  Professors  ' — "  God  help  the  Minister,"  he  once  said  to  Hay- 
don, "who  interferes  in  art" — had  no  objection  to  pass  the 
responsibility  over  to  a  select  committee,  and  thus  Mr.  Ewart's 
committee  was  obtained  during  the  Session  of  1835.  In  order 
to  aid  this  committee  to  the  utmost  of  his  power,  and  to  go 
further,  in  time,  Haydon  resolved  during  the  winter  of  1835-6, 


'9- 


MEMOIR  OF 


to  deliver  a  series  of  lectures  in  London  on  "  Painting  and 
Design."  I  believe  the  suggestion  was  first  made  to  him  by 
Mr.  \Vyse,  and  for  some  time  he  resisted  it.  He  did  not  wish 
to  appear  prominently  before  the  public.  At  length  he  yielded, 
and  went  to  work.  His  object  was  to  awake  public  opinion  on 
the  vast  importance  of  a  knowledge  of  design  to  our  manu- 
facturers, so  as  to  strengthen  Lord  Melbourne  and  force  the 
Board  of  Trade  to  establish  a  large  and  comprehensive  system 
of  schools  throughout  the  country.  Thus  it  was  that  Haydon 
came  before  the  public  as  a  lecturer  on  art  and  design.  He 
had  no  other  object  in  view.  All  the  base  personal  and 
pecuniary  objects  imputed  to  him  by  his  enemies  are  utterly 
false.  A  man,  who  for  thirty  years  had  been  writing  for 
the  public  journals  on  Art,  and  had  never  accepted  a  six- 
pence for  his  contributions,  was  not  likely  to  think  of  whether 
this  or  that  would  "pay,"  on  a  matter  he  had  so  dearly  at 
heart  as  our  "  schools  of  design."  I  believe  myself  that 
this  "  bcturing  "  went  strongly  against  his  grain.  He  loved 
the  quiet  and  repose  of  his  painting-room,  and  he  would 
have  given  all  he  possessed,  except  his  brains,  to  secure  it. 
Yet  this  work  had  to  be  done,  and  there  was  none  to  do  it  but 
himself.  He  prepared  a  "  lecture  "  on  Painting  and  Design  ; 
and  on  the  8th  September,  1835,  made  his  first  appearance  in 
public  at  the  London  Mechanics'  Institution. 

The  hall  was  crammed.  There  was  immense  curiosity  to  see 
him.  Few  people  believed  he  would  succeed,  his  life  had  been 
so  retired ;  and  all  were  eager  to  hear  what  he  had  to  say,  and 
watch  how  he  would  acquit  himself.  They  might  have  been 
quite  easy.  There  was  no  chance  of  his  failing.  He  knew  his 
subject  too  well,  and  was  too  courageous  to  be  "  put  down  "  if 
there  was  any  attempt.  Put  he  was  decidedly  nervous :  you 
could  see  it  in  the  corners  of  his  mouth.  He  says  that  all  his 
distresses,  humiliation,  and  ruin  "  crowded  "  on  his  mind  as  he 
came  on  the  platform.  There  was  a  dead  silence,  and  he  stood 
stock-still,  looking  at  the  mass  of  heads  before  him.  A  round 
of  applause  greeted  him  ;  he  did  not  notice  it,  but,  taking  off 
his  spectacles,  wiped  them  carefully  for  some  time,  then  held 
them  up  to  the  light  to  see  if  they  were  clear.  This  was 
finesse  to  enable  him  to  recover  his  self-possession.  Then  he 
opened  his  book  and  began  his  lecture.  Lu  ten  minutes  he 
had  got  the  ear  of  his  audience. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


193 


His  lectures  on  "  Painting  and  Design  "  are  published  and 
well-known.  He  dedicated  them  to  Wordsworth.  They  are 
twelve  in  number,  are  forcibly  but  negligently  written.  Haydon 
was  too  eager  and  too  earnest  to  spread  the  truth  to  waste  time 
in  ornament,  but  he  might  have  been  more  careful  and  exact 
in  his  choice  of  words.  He  insists  on  a  knowledge  of  anatomy 
as  the  true  basis  of  the  arts  of  design.  He  entreats  English 
students,  after  the  manner  of  the  old  masters,  to  stay  at  home 
and  study,  for  that  we  have  in  the  Elgin  Marbles  and  the 
cartoons  finer  things  than  Italy  ever  possessed  or  possesses. 
He  lays  down  sound  rules  for  their  guidance  and  instruction. 
He  maintains,  in  contradiction  to  Reynolds,  that  grandeur  of 
style  does  not  consist  in  the  omission  of  all  details,  but  in 
the  judicious  selection  of  the  leading  ones  ;  he  attacks  and 
refutes  Alison  and  Jeffrey's  theories  of  taste,  and  he  de- 
nounces and  ridicules  what  is  called  the  "  Grand  style  "  in  art. 
"  When  you  see  an  outline  like  iron,  that  is  '  the  grand 
style.'  When  hands  are  twisted,  heads  distorted,  one  leg  up 
and  the  other  so  far  removed  from  the  body  you  may  question 
if  it  will  return,  that  is  '  the  grand  style.'  All  this  absurdity 
originated  with  Michel  Angelo,  and  although  he  is  not  answer- 
able for  the  excesses  of  his  admirers,  there  must  be  something 
erroneous  and  wrong  if  every  imitator  from  Goltzius  downwards 
has  b:  en  led  to  such  extravagance." 

In  his  conclusion  on  the  first  night,  he  said,  "If  by  my 
efforts  I  can  advance  your  taste,  or  refine  your  feelings  for  High 
Art,  and  prove  its  connection  with  your  various  callings ;  if  I 
can  rekindle  the  lost  feeling  for  its  national  importance,  or 
prove  its  immense  value  to  manufactures  ;  if  I  can  give  you  a 
deeper  insight  into  its  eternal  principles  than  can  be  gathered 
in  the  heat,  and  glare,  and  varnish  of  a  spring  exhibition.  0111 
of  the  great  objects  of  my  life  will  be  realised.  Hut,  remember, 
nothing  will,  nothing  can  be  effectually  of  use  till  schools  of 
design  be  established  in  the  great  towns,  of  which  the  know- 
ledge, the  deepest  knowledge  of  the  human  figure,  must  be  the 
corner  stone,  and  High  Art  has  made  its  legitimate  impression 
in  high  quarters,  and  by  State  support  is  placed  at  the  least 
on  a  level  with  portrait."* 

*  Sir  Charles  Enstlake,  in  his  last  address  as  President  of  the  Iioynl  Academy 
at  the  annual  dinner,  bra  e  wimess  to  the  great  change  these  schools  of  design  I  ad 
wrought  in  the  public  appreciation  of  art.    "  The  change  to  which  I  allude,"  he 
VOL.  I.  O 


I '94 


MEMOIR  OF 


At  the  close,  the  audience  enthusiastically  cheered  him  again 
and  again,  and  from  this  night  Haydon's  reputation  as  a  lec- 
turer upon  art  was  established.  In  a  few  months  he  was  over- 
whelmed with  offers  of  engag'  ments  in  all  parts  of  the  country, 
and  up  to  his  death  in  1846,  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in 
selecting  without  giving  offence.  Nor  did  he  wish  to  give  up 
too  much  of  his  time  to  this  labour.* 

Mr.  Ewart's  select  committee  sat  and  took  evidence  during 
the  session  of  18^0.  Haydon  was  one  of  the  principal  witnesses 
examined.  He  laid  his  whole  plan  for  the  foundation  of  a 
system  of  schools  of  design  before  the  committee,  and  he  laid 
before  the  committee  also  a  plan  for  the  decoration  of  the 
Houses  of  Parliament  by  a  series  of  great  paintings,  illustrating 
the  principles  upon  which  the  building  is  erected,  and  he  pressed 
the  committee  to  urge  public  employment  for  the  English 
painters  of  history.  Jn  their  report,  the  committee  adopted 
these  views  so  far  as  they  thought  it  advisable.  His  plan  for 
schools  of  design  they  fully  accepted. 

We  must  not  leave  this  committee  without  remarking  it  was 
the  first  Parliamentary  Committee  that  insisted  upon  calling 
before  it  the  President  and  Council  of  the  Royal  Academy,  and 
subjecting  them  to  a  searching  cross-examination.  Haydon 
had  got  this  inserted  into  the  duties  of  the  committee.  Lor  I 
Melbourne,  on  his  suggestion,  had  allowed  it.  '1  lvj  conduct  of 
Sir  Martin  Shee,  P.H.A.,  when  undergoing  examination,  was 
marked  by  a  great  want  of  dignity.    His  virulent  academic 

said,  "  has  been  chiefly  brought  about  by  the  application  of  the  fine  arts  to  what 
is  culled  industrial  art,  and  more  especially  in  sellouts  of  design.''  Eastlake  knew 
well  to  whom  this  was  due,  and  the  enormous  exertions  Hay- Ion  had  made  between 
ls:;;>  and  1842  to  carry  the  principles  of  High  Artintoh;s  schools  of  design  against 
the  determined  opposition  of  the  Academic  Council  of  the  London  School  of 
Design  ;  but  it  would  have  been  taken  ill  if  he  had  spoken  out  Haydon's  name  at 
an  academy  dinner,  so  strong  was  the  prejudice  against  him. — Ed. 

*  In  their  'Century  of  Painters,'  the  brothers  Redgrave  di-miss  Haydon  as  a 
lecturer  on  art  in  a  few  contemptuous  words,  as  if  he  sought  engag'  ments  onlv  to 
make  money.  Nothing  can  be  further  from  the  truth.  And  besides,  the  brothers 
linigrave  liibtake  and  misconceive  Haxdon's  motive  in  lecturing.  It  was  to 
rouse  public,  opinion  first  in  favour  of  Mr.  Ewart's  Committee,  so  as  to  bring  before 
it  all  available  evidence,  and  next  to  put  pressure  upon  the  (Government  to  support 
the  recommendations  of  that  Committee.  When  Haydon  had  succeeded  in  hia 
object,  that,  of  establishing  "  Schools  of  Design  "•  on  his  own  principles  of  instruc- 
tion ir.  the  provinces,  he  began  to  gradually  withdraw  himself  from  lecturing,  in 
order  to  return  to  his  easel,  which  he  never  left  for  an  hour  without  unatbeted 
regret.  Lecturing  so  far  from  being  a  grat.tication  to  him  was  a  great  and  painful 
effort,  which  only  a  sense  of  duty  led  him  to  undertake.  The  remarks  of  the 
brothers  Redgrave  on  this  point  appear  to  mo,  who  knew  him  well,  to  be  singularly 
ungenerous  and  unjust. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


'95 


jealousy  and  hatred  of  Haydon  broke  out  more  than  once,  and 
could  hardly  be  restrained.  He  denounced  Haydon  as  the  cause 
of  all  mischief  in  the  art ;  he  shook  his  fist  at  him  across  the 
table  ;  he  shouted  at  him,  "  There's  the  man — that's  the  man 
— that's  the  respectable  man,"  till  the  committ  e,  pained  and 
astounded,  stopped  proceedings  and  ordered  the  room  to  be 
cleared.  After  a  while  order  was  restored,  and  Sir  Martin  was 
directed  to  restrain  his  personalities.  Mr.  Henry  T.  Hope,  one 
of  the  members  of  the  committee,  was  so  shocked  that  he 
writes  to  Haydon  next  day  (17th  July,  1836)  to  express  "  his 
regret  and  distress  "  at  the  "  bitterness  he  had  witnessed  dis- 
played against  him,"  and,  as  an  acceptable  consolation,  subse- 
quently begs  Haydon  to  paint  him  a  cabinet-picture.  This  was 
very  good  of  Mr.  Hope,  and  I,  for  one,  shall  always  remember 
him  gratefully  for  it.  The  request  produced  that  exquisite 
bit  of  humour  in  painting  '  Falstaff,'  now  at  Deepdene,  and 
which  the  late  Sir  Robert  Peel  admired  so  much. 

The  violence  of  Sir  Martin  Shee  did  the  Academy  no  good. 
The  committee  began  then  to  suspect  there  was  more  behind 
the  curtain  than  even  Haydon  had  revealed.  But  their  report, 
in  Haydon's  opinion,  erred  on  the  side  of  tenderness.  It 
certainly  does  deal  gently  with  the  proved  abuses  of  the  Royal 
Academy ;  but  the  moderation  of  the  report  serves  the  more 
strongly  to  expose  the  obstinate  resistance  of  the  academicians 
to  any  measure  having  in  it  one  particle  of  the  substance  or 
spirit  of  real  reform.  But  unquestionably  one  result  of  the 
labours  of  this  committee  was  the  immediate  uprising  of  our 
"  schools  of  design  "  under  Haydon's  vigorous  touch,  and  the 
appointment  of  the  Fine  Arts  Committee  of  1811.* 

Before  the  close  of  the  year  183  J,  the  insolvency  of  Lord 
Audley  (who  had  given  Haydon  two  commissions)  involved  the 
painter  once  more  in  serious  embarrassments.  I  always  know 
what  is  coming  when  I  read  in  his  journals  such  entries  as — 

*  If  our  schools  of  design,  which  Haydon  succeeded  in  ge'ting  established  at 
this  period,  have  not  fully  answered  all  the  expectations  he  formed  of  them,  the 
blame  is  not  his,  but  first  that  of  the  central  authority  in  London,  which 
thwarted,  vexed,  and  crossed  him  while  he  lived,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  dead  used 
its  influence  to  obta  n  a  departure  from  his  judicious  rules.  A  competent  autho- 
rity writes  to  me  recently,  as  follows: — "  Schools  of  design  have  not  done  what 
was  expected  from  them,  mainly,  I  believe,  because  they  have  been  led  into  a 
wioig  road  by  the  teaching  of  South  Kensington,  which  has  encouraged  an 
t-xnggrrated  mechanical  precision  of  tinisli,  instead  of  do-ijrning  on  the  large  and 
true  principles  such  as  your  father  would  have  insisted  on." — Ed. 

o  2 


MEMOIR  OF 


"30th  August.  Out  the  whole  day  in  hitter  pecuniary 
harass.    Suffered  all  my  old  agonies  of  torture." 

"  Sept.  5th.    Worked,  but  in  agony." 

On  September  9th  he  was  arrested  while  at  breakfast  with 
us.  I  remember  the  morning  well ;  the  timid  ring  ;  the  affected 
unconcern  ;  the  balancing  of  his  spoon  on  the  edge  of  his  cup ; 
the  whisper  in  the  hall ;  and  the  servant  coming  in  with,  "  If 
you  please,  sir,  Mr.  '  Smith '  wishes  to  see  you."  I  shall  not 
forget  the  expression  of  pain  that  passed  over  his  face  as 
he  rose  and  left  the  room,  not  venturing  to  look  any  of  his 
children  in  the  face.  "  Tell  your  mother  I  have  gone  out,"  he 
said,  sadly  ;  that  was  all.  In  a  few  minutes  we  saw  him  driven 
away  in  a  hackney  coach,  accompanied  by  two  men,  one  sitting 
on  the  box.    He  remained  in  prison  till  the  17th  November. 

"  What  a  fight  it  is !"  he  writes  in  his  journal  for  the  day  of 
his  arrest.  "  It  is  wonderful  how  my  health  and  my  dear 
Mary's,  too,  is  preserved.  But,  trusting  in  God,  I  have  not  the 
least  doubt  of  carrying  my  great  object— a  vote  of  money  for 
art — and  perhaps  I  shall  then  sink  without  tasting  its  fruits." 
He  did  so,  too  surely. 

On  the  17th  November  he  was  again  brought  before  tho 
Insolvent  Court.  There  was  no  opposition.  Not  a  question 
was  asked,  and  he  was  discharged  forthwith.* 

It  was  on  this  occasion  of  his  release  that  his  kind  friend, 
the  Dowager  Duchess  of  Sutherland,  drove  up  to  the  house  to 
call,  llaydon  had  not  yet  arrived.  When  he  found  the 
Duchess  had  called,  he  wrote  to  beg  of  her  when  she  came 
again  to  come  in  "  state."  She  drove  up  the  next  day  in  her 
court  carriage,  and  with  all  the  magnificence  of  ducal  state,  and 
paid  us  a  long  visit.    During  the  winter  and  spring  she  occa- 

*  As  a  specimen  of  the  furious  anonymous  letters  which  net  infrequently 
as-ailed  llaydon,  the  following  one  of  the  hast  violent  and  dis-usting,  may  l  e 
printed.  The  date  is  the  loth  September,  183G,  and  the  postmark,  "  Coventry 
Street :  "— 

"  London,  15th  Sept.  1836. 

"  Allow  mo  to  tell  you  that  the  public  thinks  that  von  are  one  of  the  lowest, 
mean  beggars  in  England,  that  you  are  a  lazy  good-for-nothing  fellow,  aud  can  do 
nothing,  and  ought,  to  be  sent  to'the  treadmill  as  an  impostor. 

"  I  hope  no  cue  will  be  swindled  with  you.  The  onlv  subscriptions  that  should  be 
gone  into  for  you  is  to  purchase  a  broom  to  sweep  the  streets. 

"  A  Hater, 

"  To  B.  R.  Havdon."  «  C.  M.  D." 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


'97 


sionally  sent  her  carriage  up  of  her  own  accord,  to  wait  at  our 
door,  as  if  she  was  in  the  house.  It  was  all  she  could  afford  to 
do,  and  she  thought  it  would  at  least  give  Haydon  credit  with 
his  tradesmen.  This  was  aniiahle  and  good  of  her;  but 
L'aydon  wanted  employment,  not  credit. 

'J  he  year  1837,  and,  in  fact,  the  remaining  years  of  his  life, 
up  to  the  last,  seem  to  have  been  fairly  free  from  those  heart- 
breaking pecuniary  anxieties  which  had  so  distressed  him  since 
1823 — seven  times  arrested,  four  times  imprisoned  and  ruined, 
and  five  of  his  children  killed,  for  to  explain  their  deaths  by  any 
other  cause  than  the  mental  anxieties  of  their  mother  during 
these  years  would  be  incorrect — Haydon  yet  came  out  of  the 
struggle  in  1837,  strong  in  health,  and  firm  in  his  determination 
to  carry  his  points. 

This  was  the  only  bit  of  selfishness  about  him.  Everything 
but  the  education  of  his  children,  and  everybody  belonging  to 
him,  was  sacrificed  to  this  effort  to  turn  the  minds  of  the 
nobility  and  the  people  towards  High  Art  and  a  more  serious 
view  of  the  educational  value  of  art.  It  was  a  great  public 
object,  I  admit ;  but  when  a  man  has  a  great  public  and  pro- 
fessional object  like  that  in  view,  and  one  so  difficult  to  attain, 
he  ought  not,  unless  he  be  independent  of  his  profession,  and  can 
provide  for  his  family,  to  risk  "  giving  hostages  to  fortune  "  by 
marriage. 

Haydon  opens  the  new  year  (1837)  by  a  vigorous  remon- 
strance with  Mr.  Poulett-Thompson,  the  President  of  the  Hoard 
of  Trade,  upon  his  mismanagement  of  the  London  School  of 
Design.  Mr.  Ewart  had  told  Haydon  that  all  was  going  wrong  ; 
that  Poulett-Thompson  was  making  an  "  Academy  job  "  of  the 
whole  thing ;  and  the  only  course  left  was  to  start  an  opposi- 
tion school.  With  his  usual  habit  of  taking  his  bull  fairly  by 
the  horns,  Haydon,  as  soon  as  he  had  made  himself  acquainted 
with  the  facts,  went  off  to  the  Board  of  Trade  and  sought  out 
Mr.  Poulett-Thompson  in  his  room. 

"  I  told  him,"  he  writes,  "  that  I  had  heard  a  resolution  had 
been  passed  that  no  student  would  be  admitted  to  the  School 
of  Design  unless  he  signed  a  declaration  that  he  would  not 
practise  history,  portrait,  landscape,  or  sculpture.  He  denied 
it  and  said,  '  Who  has  been  telling  you  these  stories  ?  '  '  But 
has  it  been  passed  ?  '  I  asked.  No  answer.  I  told  him  I  heard 
it  was  resolved  the  study  of  the  figure  was  not  necessary  ? 


1 98 


MEMOIR  OF 


And  is  it,'  he  sa'd,  ' to  fellows  who  design  screens?'  I  did 
not  say,  '  You  ought  to  know  it  is,'  as  he  ought.  I  then  told 
him  the  Figure  was  the  basis  of  all  design,  of  which  he  seemed 

totally  incredulous  I  said,  '  Is  it  consistent  with 

the  principles  of  Lord  Melbourne's  government  to  make  the 
Council  (of  the  School  of  Design)  wholly  academical?'  'I 
selected  the  best  artists.  Calcott  is  the  best  landscape  painter, 
and  Chantrey,  surely,  at  the  head  of  h's  profession  ! '  '  No,  he 
is  not,'  I  replied.  'Who  is  higher?'  'Surely  Westmacott 
has  done  more  poetical  things  than  Chantrey,  and  so  has  Bailey. 
And  why  are  not  Martin  and  Rennie  on  the  Council?'  '  What 
pretensions  has  Eennie  ? '  '  He  does  the  naked,  and  is  a  judge 
of  what  is  necessary  for  a  Fchool  of  Design.'  '  Why  is  he  against 
the  Academy  ?' *  'On  pr'nc  pie.'  'But  he  has  no  subject  of 
complaint.'  '  That  is  the  very  reason  his  opinion  is  valuable. 
Depend  on  it,  if  the  Figure  be  not  made  the  basis  of  instruction 
it  will  all  end  in  smoke.  I  have  no  ult'mate  object.  I  have  no 
personal  wishes :  but  if  you  only  put  Academicians  on  the 
Council,  you  will  only  become  their  tool.'  "  Mr.  Poulett- 
1  hompson  was  not  to  be  convinced,  and  Haydon  left  h'm. 

In  a  few  days  (29th  January,  1837),  Haydon  paid  a  personal 
visit  to  the  Government  School  of  Design,  and  feeling  satisiied 
from  what  he  saw  of  the  futility  of  the  whole  scheme,  he  wrote 
Mr.  Poulett-Thompson  a  characteristic  letter,  to  be  found  in 
the  '  Correspondence,' and,  at  once  joined  Wyse,  and  Mr.  Ewart, 
to  set  on  foot  an  opposition  School  of  Design.  In  this  they 
were  heartily  supported  by  Mr.  Kobert  Foggo,  Hyde  ( larke, 
and  other  able  men,  and  before  very  long,  to  the  astonish- 
ment of  Mr.  Poulett-Thompson,  a  "  Society  for  Promoting 
Practical  Design "  was  publicly  announced  and  the  school 
opened,  first  in  the  old  house  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  and  then 
moved  to  the  great  room  at  Saville  House.  Mechanics  were 
invited,  and  came  in  large  numbers.  Drawing  from  the 
antique  was  taught,  lectures  by  Haydon,  Hyde  Clarke,  Foggo, 
and  Latella,  on  anatomy,  design,  colour,  fresco,  &c.,  were  de- 
livered, and  Haydon  introduced  a  fine  female  model,  and  set 
the  working-men  to  draw  from  her.  The  school  became  im- 
mensely popular,  and  soon  filled. 

The  object  of  Haydon  and  his  friends  in  this  course  of  action 


This  was  the  i  inch. — Ed. 


B.  R,  HA  YDON. 


199 


was  not  to  ruin,  but  to  improve  the  Government  School  of 
Design  at  Somerset  House,  by  drawing  their  students  away, 
and  thus  giving  the  Council  a  sharp  lesson,  that  if  they  wished 
to  exist  they  must  enter  into  competition  with  the  Saville  House 
School,  when  the  Saville  House  Committee  intended  to  reduce 
their  fees,  extend  their  system  of  instruction,  and  draw  the 
Board  of  Trade  on  into  a  position  from  which  they  could  never 
again  retire.  Then,  the  Saville  House  School  might  be  closed 
or  not,  as  seemed  best. 

The  Board  of  Trade  rose  to  the  "  fly  "  so  artfully  flung,  and 
gorged  it.  The  first  thing  they  seem  to  have  done  was  to  get 
some  of  their  own  friends  elected  into  the  Committee  of  the 
new  school,  whether  or  not  to  neutralise  Haydon  and  his  party 
I  cannot  say,  but  if  not,  at  least  to  learn  the  proje  ts  and 
organisation  of  the  enemy,  so  that  these  might  be  successfully 
imported  or  balanced  by  Somerset  House.  And  thus  the  ob- 
structive policy  of  the  Government  in  their  School  of  Design, 
and  their  effort  to  prevent-  the  mechanic  from  being  educated 
as  an  artist,  was  the  cause  of  his  being  more  artistically 
educated,  and  led  to  this  extraordinary  spectacle.  The  hostile 
committee  of  a  rival  school  of  design  sitting  at  Saville  House, 
and  including  among  its  members  the  President  of  the  Board 
of  Trade  and  official  supporter  against  Haydon  of  the  Acade- 
mical Council  of  the  school  at  Somerset  House,  the  President 
of  the  Royal  Academy  and  official  antagonist  of  Haydon  upon 
art,  and,  lastly,  Sir  Robert  Peel,  the  supporter  in  Parliament 
of  the  Royal  Academy  as  against  Haydon,  all  three  officially 
associating  with  and  sitting  with  Haydon  in  the  same  com- 
mittee, of  which  he  took  the  lead,  and  following  his  lead  in 
opposition  to  their  own  academicians  and  their  own  School  of 
Design.  It  was  as  pretty  a  comedy  as  ever  was  played.  The 
object  of  Sir  Robert  Peel  in  getting  named  to  this  committee 
may  at  least  be  safely  assumed.  But,  with  all  his  practised 
experience,  it  does  not  appear  he  put  Haydon  down,  or  carried 
measures  against  him. 

The  Saville  House  School  flourished  exceedingly.  It  drew 
students  from  all  quarters.  But  the  greatest  good,  and  the 
one  it  aimed  at,  it  did  effectually.  It  forced  the  Government 
School  at  Somerset  House  to  compete  for  existence.  As  a 
counter  attraction  to  Haydon's  female  model,  the  Somerset 
House  School  introduced  a  male  as  well  as  a  female  model,  and 


2O0 


MEMOIR  OF 


thus  for  ever  yielded  the  point  of  the  study  of  the  human  form. 
This,  of  course,  drew  all  the  women  students  to  Somerset 
House,  as  well  as  many  of  the  men.  To  draw  on  Somerset 
House  still  further,  Saville  House  then  reduced  their  fees. 
Somerset  House  met  them  again  by  further  liberality  and  an 
improved  management,  and,  ultimately,  by  the  repeal  of  their 
ungenerous  regulations,  till  at  length,  in  183!),  Haydon  and  his 
friends,  finding  their  object  fully  attained,  and  the  Somerset 
House  School  then  working  on  a  sound  basis,  withdrew  from 
Saville  House,  and  the  school  was  shortly  after  closed. 

While  this  little  comedy  was  in  progress,  Haydon  had  gone 
off  to  Edinburgh  and  Glasgow  in  order  to  rouse  public  feeling 
on  the  subject.  He  met  with  an  enthusiastic  reception,  and, 
on  leaving  Scotland,  crossed  into  England  and  commenced  his 
crusade  in  favour  of  schools  of  design  in  the  provinces.  He  lec- 
tured to  crowded  audiences  at  Manchester,  Liverpool, Leeds,  Hull, 
Sheffield,  Newcastle,  Leicester,  and  elsewhere,  and  successfully 
impressed  upon  all  the  vast  importance  to  our  manufactures  of 
sound  knowledge  of  the  principles  of  art  and  design.  He  was 
hailed  with  enthusiasm  wherever  he  appeared,  and  his  lectures 
drew  vast  audiences  and  were  listened  to  and  enjoyed  by  the 
keen,  intellectual  people  of  the  north.  Before  leaving  Edin- 
burgh the  Philosophical  Society  of  Edinburgh  entertained  him 
at  a  public  dinner.  In  a  letter  to  his  sister  of  the  27th  April, 
1837,  he  alludes  to  it  casually  : — "  The  dinner  took  place  on 
Saturday :  Mr.  Lothian  in  the  chair,  the  Kev.  Dr.  Binnie  on  his 
left,  I  on  his  right,  and  about  110  of  the  leading  reformers  in 
Edinburgh  made  up  the  company.  My  health  was  proposed 
by  Mr.  Lothian  in  the  neatest  speech  of  the  kind  1  ever  heard, 
short,  terse,  to  the  point,  and  true.  Had  you  heard  and  seen  its 
reception,  you  would  not  have  forgotten  it.  Cheering,  shouting, 
huzzaing,  and  waving  of  handkerchiefs.  Lothian,  I  thought, 
must  be  a  great  favourite,  for  they  know  too  little  of  me.  But 
when  I  got  up  I  was  met  with  such  a  storm  of  applause,  it  was 
quite  five  minutes  before  it  subsided.  I  was  deeply  affected. 
I  could  not  speak.  Then  they  cheered  me  again  and  again, 
and  at  last  my  head  cleared  all  of  a  sudden,  and  I  dashed  at 
it.  Among  other  things,  I  told  them  this  dinner  showed  they 
at  least  comprehended  me,  my  object,  and  my  motives.  They 
felt  that  my  object  in  exposing  the  Academy  in  1812  was  not 
a  petty,  personal  object,  was  not  upon  personal,  but  upon  public 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


201 


grounds  and  on  public  principle.  They  saw  a  system  which 
embedded  mediocrity  for  life  in  power,  and  without  respon- 
sibility ;  a  system  which  had  enabled  inferior  men  like  Far- 
rington  to  baffle  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  and  like  Sir  Martin  Shee 
to  pass  over  the  illustrious  head  of  David  Wilkie ;  a  system 
which  had  harassed  Barry,  Opie,  West,  Martin,  and  myself, 
and  tried  to  suppress  our  particular  art.  Such  a  system  so 
constituted  was  essentially  defective,  and  must  be  reformed. 
It  was  inimical  to  the  best  interests  of  the  United  Kingdom  in 
art,  and  destructive  of  the  independence  of  artists."  * 

Haydon's  success  as  a  public  lecturer  was  certainly  unpre- 
cedented. The  extent  of  his  knowledge,  the  originality  of  his 
style,  the  simplicity  of  his  explanations,  and  the  readiness  with 
which,  with  a  piece  of  white  chalk,  he  dashed  out  on  a  black 
board  the  human  figure,  a  head,  a  limb,  or  any  part  of  the 
human  form,  delighted  his  audiences,  while  the  inimitable 
way  in  which  he  leaned  over  his  reading-desk  and  took  them 
into  his  confidence,  and  threw  good  stories,  fresh  from  life,  into 
his  "  lecture,"  doubled  its  impression,  and  made  him  a  pro- 
digious favourite.  His  manner  was  natural,  his  voice  clear  and 
musical,  his  delivery  rapid  and  impassioned,  and  the  evident 
sincerity  with  which  he  drove  home  what  he  called  "  the  naked 
truth,"  completely  carried  his  audience  with  him.  Force  of 
character  and  elevation  of  mind,  coupled  with  such  courage 
and  sincerity,  always  maintain  a  powerful  sway  over  any  body 
of  men.  I  have  been  told  that  in  the  north  of  England  the 
audience  sometimes  would  spring  to  their  feet  like  one  man, 
and  cheer  him  to  the  echo.  At  another  time,  their  intense 
silence  was  painful  as  they  listened  to  him  appealing  to  their 
nobler  qualities  by  condemning  their  defects,  denouncing  their 
worship  of  wealth,  their  idolatry  of  greed  and  gain,  and  telling 
them  they  so  sunk  their  nobler  feelings  in  their  struggle  for 
gold,  that  intellect,  character,  and  service  in  England  were  as 
nothing  in  comparison  with  wealth  ;  and  yet  when  thev  had 
got  it,  they  had  no  knowledge  how  to  apply  it  to  nobler  pur- 
poses than  to  try  and  make  more !  Then  urging  them  to  strive 
to  rise  above  this,  he  would  entreat  them  to  seek  to  combine 

*  It  was  on  this  occasion  of  his  visit  to  Scotland  that  he  went  clown  to  Hnlyrood 
fit  midnight,  having  lnilicd  ihc  housekeeper  to  let  him  go  up  alone  to  Queen 
Mary's  room,  by  tlie  staircase  Ruthven  and  Darnley  crept  up  on  the  night  of  their 
murder  of  Rizzio.  This  is  like  Byron  touchiug  the  keen  edge  of  a  jaiaghan,  and 
taying,  "  I  should  like  to  know  the  feelings  of  a  murderer.'  — Ed. 


MEMOIR  OF 


their  thirst  for  wealth  and  power  with  a  love  for  the  Fine  Arts, 
and  to  give  encouragement  and  support  to  them  in  proportion 
to  their  means.  His  pride  in  old  England,  his  passionate  love 
of  what  was  lofty  and  true,  his  contempt  for  everything  low 
and  mean,  his  ardent  appeals  to  the  higher  self  that  is  within 
all  of  us,  and  his  intense  belief  in  the  power  of  self-improve- 
ment affected  his  hearers  deeply,  and  there  can  be  no  doubt 
did  incalculable  good  in  our  manufacturing  towns.  The  temper 
of  such  a  man  harmonised  with  the  temper  of  such  a  people  in 
its  energy  and  sublime  self-confidence,  as  in  its  earnestness  and 
patriotism,  and  he  never  flattered  their  prejudices.  He  ap- 
pealed to  their  innate  love  of  truth  and  fair  play,  and  from 
the  mouth  of  so  earnest  and  sincere  a  man  this  had  a  double 
effect. 

What  delighted  Haydon  especially  in  the  provinces  was  to 
find  how  thoroughly  independent  of  London  opinion  and  London 
feeling  were  the  inhabitants.  Each  county  was  as  complete  in 
itself  and  its  feelings  and  opinions  as  in  the  days  of  the  Hep- 
tarchy. Carried  to  extremes,  this  becomes  a  defect  and  narrow  s 
the  feelings  and  sympathies,  but  to  a  certain  extent  it  is  high'y 
desirable  as  a  check  upon  that  bane  of  all  civilised  commu- 
nities and  settled  government  ,  bureaucratic  and  administrative 
concentration.  To  the  people  of  the  provinces  Haydon  found 
London  only  the  capital,  the  seat  of  the  Court  and  Govern- 
ment, but  nothing  more.  The  good  folks  of  Manchester, 
Liverpool,  Leeds,  Newcastle,  and  Hull,  cared  no  more  for 
London  opinion  on  men  and  thi-gs  than  they  cared  for  the 
3  per  Cents,  as  an  investment  for  their  gains  ;  they  held  their 
own  opinions  as  they  held  their  own  means  of  investmeut,  and 
were  complete  in  themselves. 

Brought  into  contact  with  new  men  under  new  conditions, 
Haydon  soon  found  its  advantage.  The  men  he  met  now,  if 
not  quite  so  refined  in  manner,  or  generally  so  well-informed 
as  in  London,  were  men  of  great  energy,  rapid  apprehension, 
and  free  from  that  languor  and  prejudice  which  marks  the 
supercilious  London  man.  Commissions  were  freely  offered  to 
him,  two  from  Liverpool  for  historical  pictures,  life  size ;  one, 
a  sacred  subject,  for  the  Church  of  the  Blind  Asylum  ;  another, 
for  a  painting  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington  for  their  Tow  n  Hall  ; 
and  many  gentlemen  of  Manchester,  Leeds,  and  Hull,  &c,  re- 
quested him  to  paint  cabinet  pictures  for  their  houses.  The 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


historical  commissions  mightily  pleased  Haydon,  for  they 
shewed  what  he  had  always  asserted,  that  the  English  people 
had  feeling  for  High  Art,  that  is,  historic,  poetic,  and  ideal  art, 
though  neither  the  Government  nor  the  nobility  would  admit 
the  fact,  or  seek  to  develope  the  feeling,  and  the  Academicians 
were  incapable. 

Yet,  with  all  his  success  he  was  not  satisfied.  He  foresaw 
great  dangers.  He  felt  and  predicted  that  if  the  schools  of 
design  were  ever  made  part  and  parcel  of  an  official  system  of 
education,  they  would  soon,  sink  to  the  level  of  mere  drawing- 
schools,  subordinate,  and  of  little  effect.  "  Schools  of  design," 
I  find  him  writing,  "  should  be  separate,  independent,  and  dis- 
tinct, on  the  principle  that  the  knowledge  of  the  human  figure 
is  the  basis  of  all  knowledge  in  art,"  and  that  "  any  school  of 
design  where  this  principle  is  not  the  basis  will  fail."  He 
complained  that  lecturing  disturbed  his  mind,  and  he  ques- 
tioned very  much  if  the  effect  of  his  twelve  lectures,  with  all 
the  ability  and  learning  he  expended  on  them,  was  not  "  small " 
compared  with  that  "  of  one  great  picture."  But  the  work  had 
to  be  done  and  there  was  no  one  who  could  do  it,  or  would  do 
it,  but  himself,  and  he  never  shrunk  from  a  duty  because  it 
was  irksome.  The  first  question  he  asked  in  every  town  was, 
"  Have  you  a  school  of  design  ?  "  The  almost  invariable  reply 
was,  "  No,  we  have  not ; "  or,  "  Yes,  we  have ;  but  it  is  not 
open."  Then  he  would  set  to  work  and  get  together  a  com- 
mittee, and  establish  or  re-establish,  as  the  case  might  be, 
send  them  down  casts  from  the  antique,  and  get  them  quickly 
to  work  on  the  study  of  the  human  form.  To  all  classes  he 
pointed  out  the  vast,  the  vital  importance  of  scientific  knowledge 
of  design — founded  on  a  knowledge  of  form,  colour,  light,  and 
shadow — to  success  in  manufacture ;  and  how,  without  this 
knowledge,  the  time  would  speedily  come  when  English  manu- 
factures must  be  driven  out  of  the  markets  of  the  world  by 
those  who  possess  that  knowledge  flm  their  cheap  labour.* 

*  It  is  amusing  now  in  1875,  forty  years  after  Haydon's  provincial  lal>ours,  to 
read  the  addn  sses  of  our  public  men  upon  the  want  of  our  knowledge  of  design, 
as  if  it  were  a  new  di=coveiy.  Haydon,  as  we  see,  predicted  all  tliat  has  come  to 
pass  seventy  years  ago,  and  laboured  all  his  life  to  try  and  prevent  it  by  securing 
for  our  worknnn  a  scientific  eduction  in  the  piineiples  of  their  craft.  And  his 
reward  is,  never  now  to  be  mentioned  by  our  public  speakers,  who  give  all  the 
credit  for  the  foundation  of  our  schools  of  design  to  his  late  Royal  Highness  the 
Prince  Consort,  who^e  services  to  English  art  were  great  indeed,  but  who,  never- 
theless, did  not  arrive  in  this  country  until  1810,  by  which  time  Haydon  hud  set 
our  sclooIs  of  design  at  work. — Ed. 


204 


MEMOIR  OF 


Haydon's  success  as  a  lecturer  upon  art  appears  to  have 
been  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  the  Royal  Academy.  They  hardly 
knew  how  to  deal  with  it.  After  a  time  they  sent  Etty  and 
Howard  about  the  country  to  advocate  local  exhibitions  of 
pictures  by  way  of  encouraging  art  and,  I  am  afraid,  getting 
rid  of  the  unsold  pictures  of  the  Academy  Exhibition.  At 
least,  the  proposal  had  a  suspicious  look  of  business  about  it. 
Etty  was  a  simple  and  sincere  man,  and  hardly  fathomed  the 
depth  of  others.  This  plan  proved  a  very  slight  check  upon 
Haydon.  Yet  the  Academy  might  render  all  his  efforts 
nugatory  by  a  judicious  management  of  Ministers.  In  the 
Government  they  had  two  great  allies,  Mr.  Spring  Rice  and 
Mr.  Poulett-Thompson,  the  one  Chancellor  of  the  Exche- 
quer, the  other,  at  the  Board  of  Trade.  These  the  Academy 
manoeuvred  so  skilfully  as  to  induce  Mr.  Spring  Rice  to  let 
them  occupy  one  half  of  the  National  Gallery,  in  spite  of 
Haydon's  utmost  efforts  to  keep  them  out,  for  the  sake  of  the 
public,  and  make  them  find  a  house  of  their  own  ;  and  thev 
induced  Mr.  Poulett-Thompson  to  believe  that  schools  of 
design,  as  projected  by  Haydon  for  the  provinces,  "  were  per- 
fectly useless,  as  the  failing  condition  of  the  London  School," 
which  they  had  themselves  brought  about,  "  clearly  proved." 
Art  education  at  this  period  was  a  business  so  delicate,  and  so 
easily  obscured  and  perverted,  that  Haydon's  indignation  was 
natural  at  finding  his  best  efforts  at  Manchester  and  other 
towns  suddenly  paralysed  by  letters  from  Mr.  Poulett-Thomp- 
son, discountenancing  the  formation  of  schools  of  design 
in  the  provinces,  and  throwing  obstacles  in  Ids  way  at  every 
corner.  The  object  of  the  authorities  was  to  prevent  the 
spread  of  a  sound  knowledge  of  design,  lest  the  profits  of  the 
professional  artist  should  be  interfered  with.  It  was  the 
old  story  over  again  :  monopolists  fighting  for  their  mono- 
poly against  free  trade.  This  mischievous  action  of  the 
Academy  met  Haydon  everywhere.  Yet  he  could  never  bring 
it  home  to  them.  They  always  used  some  official  cat  or  the 
other  to  take  Haydon's  chestnut  out  of  the  fire.  Now  it  was 
a  Prime  Minister,  then  a  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  then 
a  President  of  the  Board  of  Trade.  It  was  like  a  spirit  in 
the  air,  an  impalpable  "something"  he  could  not  grasp  and 
strangle,  but  which  never  ceased  to  undermine  all  his  efforts 
for  the  public,  and  threaten  to  overturn  them  entirely.  Really 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


205 


the  violence  of  his  anger  may  easily  be  understood  and  ex- 
cused.   'Ibis — 

"  Playing  the  mouse  in  absence  of  the  cat, 
To  taint,  and  havoc  more  than  she  can  eat," 

compelled  him  to  appear  to  the  public  as  irrationally  suspicious. 
Yet,  if  he  had  consented  to  sit  quietly  at  home, art  and  design 
might  have  been  thrown  back  another  fifty  years.  Besides,  the 
proved  inefficiency  of  academical  teaching  was  ample  justifi- 
cation for  his  action,  to  say  nothing  of  their  present  motive. 

And  there  can  be  no  mistake  about  the  motive,  any  more 
than  about  the  action  of  the  Academy  over  this  question  of 
schools  of  design.  Their  object  was  to  render  the  scheme 
inefficient  by  making  it  subservient  to  the  Academical  teach- 
ing. It  is  true  that  Haydon  succeeded  in  spite  of  them,  and 
founded  independent  schools,  for  which  they  now  seek  to  claim 
credit.  Cut  their  real  position  from  1801  to  1842  was  this: 
they  denied  the  necessity  for  the  artist  or  artisan  to  learn  to 
draw  the  human  figure ;  they  refused  permission  to  the  aitisan 
to  do  so,  and  they  protested  that  pattern  draughtsmen  had  no 
need  of  such  knowledge.  If  they  believed  in  these  opinions, 
what  can  be  thought  of  their  sagacity  ?  and  if  they  advanced 
them  without  believing  in  them,  what  trust  can  be  placed  in  a 
body  of  men  capable  of  such  deceit?  This  is  their  dilemma. 
Their  friends  may  attribute  their  opposition  to  Haydon  to 
wilfulness,  or  to  want  of  comprehension  and  foresight,  but 
surely  that  is  the  extent  of  their  choice,  for  no  one  attempts 
to  deny  their  determined  opposition  to  Haydon.  Reform  is  in 
all  things  a  long  and  laborious  work,  and  great  allowance  is 
due  to  the  difficulties ;  "  but  none,"  says  Arnold,  "  for  the 
dishonest  spirit  which  creates  difficulties  when  it  cannut  find 
them,  and  exaggerates  them  when  it  can !  " 

The  years  1837,  1838,  and  1839  may  be  said  to  have  passed 
quickly  and  prosperously  for  Haydon  ;  that  is  to  say,  he  was 
actively  employed  with  his  schools  of  design,  and  was  never 
arrested.  Under  pressure  of  the  violent  opposition  of  the 
Royal  Academy,  through  the  Board  of  Trade,  he  flew  from 
town  to  town— the  speed  of  the  railroad  suited  the  man — 
lecturing,  talking,  persuading,  and  labouring  in  every  quarter 
to  impress  the  inhabitants  with  the  importance  to  our  manu- 
factures of  the  scientific  knowledge  by  designers  of  form, 
colour,  light,  and  shadow,  as  the  basis  of  true  design,  and 


206 


MEMOIR  OF 


in  the  excellence  and  carefulness  of  which  all  design  and 
manufacture  assuredly  rest.  He  conceived  the  idea  of  a 
federation  of  towns  in  favour  of  schools  of  design.  He  also, 
I  find,  kept  up  an  active  private  correspondence  with  the 
Prime  Minister,  Lord  Melbourne. 

Before  the  Session  of  1838  closed,  Haydon,  through  Mr. 
Hume  (though  defeated  by  Sir  Robert  Teel  on  a  division  upon 
their  immediate  motion),  brought  the  House  to  claim  its  right 
to  call  at  will  for  a  return  of  the  "  receipts  and  expenditure  of 
the  Royal  Academy,"  though  the  right  Mas  to  be  "  exercised 
with  di  cretion."  Sir  Robert  Peel  only  escaped  defeat  by  con- 
ceding this  point.  This  result  Haydon  regarded  as  very 
important,  as  it  destroyed  for  ever  the  assumed  "  privacy  "  of 
the  Royal  Academy,  and  established  the  right  of  Parliament 
to  call  for  a  return  of  its  expenditure  and  accounts.  In  his 
journal  for  this  Session,  he  also  notices  the  repeal  this  year  of 
one  part  of  the  law  of  arbitrary  arrest  for  debt,  from  which  he 
had  suffered  so  cruelly.  "  The  law  which  enabled  a  reptile  to 
enter  your  house  without  notice  and  drag  you  even  from  your 
bed  is  abolished ;  it  is  only  a  step  to  the  final  abolition  of 
arrest  even  in  execution.  1  have  helped  to  this  desired 
object."  Early  in  1839  Haydon  busied  himself  with  a  design 
for  a  Nelson  monument.  His  was  a  grand  idea,  a  temple 
decorated  with  paintings  of  Nelson's  victories,  and  portraits  of 
his  colleagues  and  commanders,  and  in  the  centre  a  single 
statue  of  the  man,  inscribed, 

Nelson, 

"  A  little  body  with  a  mighty  heart." 

The  plan  was  rejected  as  "  too  costly,"  and  the  present  dis- 
proportioned  column  put  up  instead. 

As  soon  as  the  season  of  183.)  was  over,  Haydon  hurried  to 
Brussels  for  a  week  to  sketch  the  field  of  Waterloo,  and  so 
get  a  background  for  his  Liverpool  picture.  The  sight 
of  Rilbens's  abode,  the  quiet  seclusion  of  his  summer  house, 
the  silence  of  Antwerp,  the  golden  splendour  of  its  altars,  the 
power  of  its  pictures  affected  him  deeply.  "  I  think  I  will 
settle  here,"  he  writes.  How  curious  this  idea  of  repose  is  so 
often  in  the  minds  of  active  and  ambitious  men!  "  Put  for 
this  cursed  desire  of  glory,"  wrote  Frederic  the  Great,  "I 
assure  vou  I  should  think  only  of  my  tranquillity." 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


207 


Haydon  returned  home,  soon  forgot  his  longings  for  a 
tranquil  life,  worked  hard  at  his  picture  until  October,  and 
then,  at  the  invitation  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  went  down 
and  spent  three  days  with  the  old  Hero  at  Walmer.  The  picture 
was  finished  by  the  end  of  November  and  sent  home.  It  is  a 
fine  picture :  the  expression  of  the  Duke  very  beautiful  in  its 
age,  its  power,  and  its  simplicity,  and  without  that  silly 
simper  most  portraits  give  him.  He  looks  like  "an  aged 
eagle  just  tottering  on  his  perch." 

Before  the  end  of  the  year  Haydon  delivers  a  fresh  course  of 
lectures  in  Leeds  and  the  North,  and  records  that  he  finds  a 
strong  feeling  for  Truth  in  Art  spreading  rapidly  among  the 
provinces.  "  The  importance  of  High  Art,"  he  says,  "  is  no 
longer  a  matter  of  doubt."  He  notes  that  at  Hull  he  was 
begged  to  get  casts  of  the  Theseus  and  Ilissus ;  that  his 
schools  of  design  generally,  and  in  sp'te  of  the  efforts  of  the 
Academy  to  •'  burke  "  the  whole  scheme,  promise  well,  and  that 
all  things  are  tending  "  to  gradually  fit  the  next  generation 
for  expecting,  and  being  able  to  relish  better  things." 

In  short,  the  general  result  by  1840  was  satisfactory.  He 
had  carried  one  of  his  objects,  the  establishment  by  the  Govern- 
ment of  a  central  school  of  design  in  London,  though  its 
management,  at  present,  was  not  what  he  desired,  and  he  had 
succeeded  in  establishing,  and  in  reviving,  schools  of  design  in 
our  princ:pal  provincial  and  manufacturing  towns,  on  his  own 
plans,  and  he  had,  by  his  lectures  and  personal  influence, 
roused  the  people  to  the  importance  of  design  to  manufacture, 
and  to  the  value  of  art  and  design  in  the  education  of  all 
classes.  It  had  taken  him  thirty  years  of  hard  struggling,  but 
he  had  done  it  at  last,  and  when  he  least  expected  it,  and  by 
means  and  in  a  manner  he  long  thought  hopeless.  But  "  he 
that  considereth  the  wind  shall  not  sow,  and  he  that  looketh 
to  the  clouds  shall  not  reap."  It  is  the  wise  man  who  makes 
more  opportunities  than  he  finds.  Yet  let  us  not  forget  to 
give  a  share  of  the  merit  where  it  is  due.  It  was  the  unre- 
formed  Parliaments  Haydon  could  not  interest.  With  the 
reformed  Parliament  of  1832  he  found  a  fresh  class  of  men, 
keen,  intellectual,  and  energetic,  who  saw,  and  quickly  ap- 
preciated what  he  was  aiming  at,  and  they  helped  him 
heartily.  To  Mr.  Ewart,  Mr.  Hume,  Mr.  Wyse,  Haydon 
was  under  the  greatest  obligation,  nor  should  Lord  Melbourne 


203 


MEMOIR  OF 


be  forgotten.  He  did  all  he  could.  The  aristocratic  principle 
in  the  Cabinet  was  too  strong  for  him  to  do  more.  For  I 
think  there  can  be  little  doubt  one  element  in  the  hostility  of 
the  Board  of  Trade  to  Haydon's  schemes  for  schools  of  design 
arose  from  that  preposterous  exaltation  of  the  aristocratic 
principle,  which  has  ruined  so  many  Whig  Cabinets.  The 
feeling  was  against  Haydon  because  he  desired  to  educate  the 
artisan  like  the  artist.  "Why  educate' a  journeyman  above 
his  class?"  was  asked.  Once  a  journeyman,  let  him  be 
educated  as  becomes  a  journeyman,  and  let  him  be  a  journey- 
man still.*  This  disinclination  to  allow  others  to  rise  because 
you  can  get  no  higher,  is  only  another  form  of  the  envy  of  the 
idle  against  the  industrious.  The  people  of  Britain,  who  are 
teeming  with  brains,  are  like  animalcula  in  a  hydrogen  micro- 
scope. Turn  them  down  one  way  they  come  struggling  up 
another,  till  at  length  the  seething  mass  oppressed  by  this 
repression  dies,  or,  bursts  its  bounds.  The  true  policy  is 
obvious. 

Haydon  had  now  to  secure  the  ground  he  had  won  from 
academical  intrigue,  and  to  push  on  to  his  greater  project,  the 
decoration  of  the  New  Houses  of  Parliament,  under  the 
authority  of  the  State,  in  other  words,  the  public  employ- 
ment of  the  English  historical  painters  on  a  great  work  of 
public  decoration.  This,  from  the  first,  had  been  "a  fixed 
idea  "with  Haydon.  All  his  petitions  to  parliament,  all  his 
correspondence  with  Ministers,  bear  most  strongly  upon  it. 
Possibly,  for  this  reason  it  was  made  his  chief  disappointment. 

For  the  next  five  years  we  find  him  incessantly  employed  in 
writing,  painting,  lecturing  and  teaching.  He  painted  several 
large  pictures,  the  '  Anti-Slavery  Meeting,'  a  picture  of  130 
quakers,  by  which,  as  Tom  Moore  amusingly  put  it,  he 
"  infected  the  Broad  Brims  with  the  love  of  the  Fine  Arts." 
The  'Maid  of  Saragossa,'  'Uriel,'  'Alexander  killing  a  Lion,' 
a  replica  of  Sir  Robert  Peel's  '  Napoleon '  for  the  King  of 
Hanover ;  the  '  Curtius,'  and  numerous  cabinet  pictures.  He 
continually  lectured  in  the  provinces,  and  for  the  first  time 
at  the  Koyal  Institution  in  London,  and  also  (1840)  at  the 
University  of  Oxford.     Here  he  was  received  by  the  vice- 

*  It  is  curious  to  see  this  principle  now  advocated  by  a  once  distinguii-hi  d 
Radical,  Mr.  Roebuck.  Did  he  never  try  to  raise  himself,  was  he  never  ambitious 
of  becoming  Home  Secretary  ?    Fie  !  Mr.  Itoebuck.— Eu. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


209 


chancellor,  Dr.  Shuttleworth,  and  the  heads  of  colleges,  with 
marked  distinction.  The  vice-chancellor  placed  the  Ashmolean 
Museum  at  his  disposal,  and  brought  crowded  audiences  to 
hear  his  six  lectures.  It  was  a  great  and  deserved  success,  and 
did  honour  to  the  vice-chancellor  and  those  who  received 
Haydon  with  such  liberality.  He  spoke  of  his  reception  at 
Oxford  ever  after  in  warm  terms  of  grateful  recollection. 

But  the  chief  business  of  his  life  in  these  years,  over  and 
above  all  this  arduous  work,  was  with  his  plan  for  the  decora- 
tion of  the  Houses  of  Parliament.  Haydon's  plan,  from  its  first 
conception  by  him  in  1812,  had  been  to  illustrate  the  prin- 
ciples for  which  the  building  is  erected,  and  to  seek  for  accept- 
able examples  in  the  history  of  the  world.  Then  he  proposed 
the  painters  be  selected,  and  placing  one  man  at  the  head  of 
all,  give  to  each  painter  a  certain  space,  which  he  should  bo 
required  to  fill  with  the  illustrations  of  the  particular  principle 
allotted  to  him. 

For  example,  he  proposed  to  give  one  man  anarchy,  another 
man  despotism,  another  democracy,  and  so  on  ;  subjects 
selected  with  the  view  to  show  how  the  English  people  have 
known  to  combine  the  greatest  security  to  property  with  the 
greatest  freedom  of  action.  This  was  Haydon's  plan — a  simple 
and  complete  one,  and  assuredly  the  one  calculated  to  produce 
a  series  of  works  worthy  of  a  great  nation.  But,  unhappily, 
this  was  beyond  our  nobility.  It  went  too  far  for  them,  and, 
moreover,  it  involved  a  style  of  art  they  did  not  understand, 
and  did  not  approve  of  because  they  did  not  understand. 

However,  in  1841  a  Fine  Arts  Committee  was  appointed  to 
consider  this  particular  matter.  Haydon  from  the  first  does 
not  seem  to  have  had  much  hopes  of  it.  Mr.  Ewart's  Com- 
mittee had  disappointed  him.  And  his  experience  of  Parlia- 
mentary Committees  on  matters  of  Fine  Art,  and  from  which 
professional  painters,  the  only  men  who  know  anything  of  the 
subject,  are  necessarily  excluded,  was  not  satisfactory.  I  re- 
member his  saying,  "  It  will  end  as  Lord  Grey  said,  '  in  a 
gigantic  job.' " 

We  have  followed  his  career  now  from  the  days  when  l,o 
used  to  talk  with  Lord  Mulgrave  over  the  absence  of  decoration 
in  our  public  buildings  to  those  when,  in  1812,  he  first  conceived 
the  idea  and  sketched  the  plan  of  a  pictorial  decoration  for  the 
Houses  of  Parliament,  on  the  plan  just  given,  down  through  all 

VOL.  I.  P 


2:o 


MEMOIR  OF 


those  ineffectual  efforts  with  ministers  from  1814  to  1832,  when 
Lord  Grey  assured  hiin  there  was  no  chance  of  doing  anything 
of  the  kind,  and  on  to  Lord  Melbourne,  who  promised  him  in 
1834,  now  the  old  Houses  were  burned  down,  his  plan  should  be 
considered  for  the  new  buildings,  and  so  to  the  present  moment, 
when  a  committee  of  both  Houses  was  appointed  to  consider 
the  suggestion. 

If  this  committee  and  the  Koyal  Connnission  which  followed 
had  sat  anywhere  but  in  London,  I  cannot  help  thinking  the 
result  would  have  been  different  as  regarded  Haydon ;  for  if 
he  was  to  have  a  chance,  the  hearing  of  the  case  must  have 
been  removed  from  the  locality  where  the  prejudice  against 
him  was  so  strong. 

The  Fine  Arts  Committee  of  1841  examined  everybody 
within  their  reach  who  was  supposed  to  know  anything,  and 
many  who  knew  nothing  on  the  subject  they  were  appointed 
to  inquire  into.  But  they  refused  to  send  for  Haydon,  the 
real  proposer  of  the  plan,  or  to  hear  one  word  he  had  to  say. 
This  was  the  "  Elgin  Marbles  "  case  over  again.  Then  it  was 
"  out  of  delicacy  "  to  Mr.  Payne  Knight,  whose  absurd  sophisms 
on  art  Haydon  had  scattered  to  the  four  winds  of  heaven,  and 
rendered  him  insignificant  for  the  rest  of  his  life,  and  now  it 
was  out  of  regard  for  the  "constituted  authorities"  in  art, 
whose  mal-administration  Haydon  had  brought,  by  Mr.  Ewart's 
Committee,  before  Parliament,  that  he  was  to  be  punished 
by  another,  and  a  more  serious  exclusion.  I  believe  myself 
that  Sir  Pobert  Peel  as  well  as  the  Academy,  from  something 
Sir  James  Graham  once  said  to  me  a  propos  of  this  very  com- 
mittee, was  the  moving  spirit  in  this  matter.  Anyhow,  the 
feeling  was  this  :  Haydon's  success  may  have  been  very  great 
at  Oxford  and  in  the  provinces,  but  we  will  show  what  he  is 
thought  of  in  London.  Hence,  the  Fine  Arts  Committee  in 
their  inquiries  ignored  Haydon's  existence,  either  as  a  profes- 
sional painter,  or  as  a  theorist  and  public  writer  upon  art,  or  as 
the  proposer  of  the  plan  of  decoration.  This  studied  slight 
upon  a  man  of  such  undoubted  claims  to  be  heard,  wounded 
him.  It  is  lucky  for  this  Committee  and  for  the  Koyal  Com- 
mission that  followed,  Haydon  died  before  he  had  carried  out 
an  intention  he  certainly  held,  that  of  writing  a  "  public 
letter  "  on  the  proceedings  of  both,  a  kind  of  second  edition  of 
his  letter  on  the  connoisseurs  and  the  Elgin  Marbles  in  lbl6. 


3.  R.  HA  YDON. 


211 


Had  he  written  it,  we  may  depend  lie  would  have  left  some- 
thing the  ineffable  nonentities  would  never  have  forgotten  so 
long  as  they  lived,  and  have  kept  them  in  memory  after  death. 
Luckily  for  them  they  broke  his  great  heart  and  killed  him 
before  he  put  together  his  accumulated  experiences.  I,  for  one, 
have  always  regretted  this  ;  for,  judging  from  one  or  two  frag- 
ments he  has  left,  the  new  letter  would  certainly  have  been  a 
masterpiece  of  exposure,  refutation,  and  invective.  There  would 
have  been  nothing  like  it  on  art  or  in  literature  since  the  days 
of  Bentley  and  Boyle ;  it  is  an  irreparable  loss. 

But  Haydon  subdued  his  feelings,  and  went  on  with  what 
easel-work  he  had  upon  hand.  Hearing  at  length  the  com- 
mittee held  the  notion  that  fresco  would  be  preferable  to  oil 
painting  for  the  new  Houses,  and  that,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
committee,  the  English  oil  painters  could  not  "  draw  well 
enough  to  work  in  fresco ; "  that  "  fresco  "  was  not  their 
"  element,"  and  that  "  Cornelius  and  the  Cerman  painters 
accustomed  to  fresco  "  must  be  "  sent  for,"  he  became  indig- 
nant. "  Here,"  he  says,  "  are  the  patrons  of  art  in  England 
now  asking  for  the  Germans  to  come  over  and  execute  '  great 
works '  in  our  Houses  of  Barliament,  because,  as  they  allege, 
the  English  painters  are  not  equal  to  the  task.  Who  is  to 
blame  if  the  English  painters  cannot  execute  great  works  ? 
Who  was  it  that  left  poor  Barry  to  live  and  die  in  poverty 
and  want  because  he  painted  great  works  ?  Who  declined  to 
support  Reynolds  in  history,  drove  Opie  into  portrait,  left 
Fuseli  to  live  by  the  print-sellers,  and  refused  to  encourage 
cither  Hilton  or  Etty?  Who  allowed  me  to  be  ruined  and 
imprisoned  and  my  school  destroyed,  because  I  would  paint 
'  great  works,'  and  dared  to  tell  them  that  great  works  should 
be  executed  for  the  honour  of  their  country.  Who  has  pressed 
down  the  genius  of  England  by  buying  nothing  but  small 
works  and  foreign  '  specimens '  ?  Does  any  man  in  his  senses 
believe  that  the  exhibitions  of  the  Royal  Academy  show  what 
English  artists  wish  to  paint  ?  No,  they  bring  out  what  they 
are  obliged  to  paint,  they  bring  to  market  the  goods  which 
will  sell.  And  now  because  you  have  degraded  the  art  by 
narrowing  its  great  calling,  you  turn  round  and  say,  '  Let  us 
call  in  the  Germans.'    Shame  on  you !    Shame  on  you  !" 

Before  a  week  was  over  he  had  pulled  down  part  of  his 
painting-room  wall,  prepared  it,  and  trusting  to  his  rapid 

p  2 


212 


MEMOIR  OF 


practice  in  oil,  painted  in  genuine  fresco,  without  retouching,  a 
magnificent  half-length  of  an  archangel.  I  remember  well  its 
ideal  and  unearthly  beauty,  for  I  had  to  sit  stripped  to  the 
waist  as  the  model,  and  saw  him  paint  it.  The  attempt  was  a 
complete  success,  except  that  it  dried  lighter  than  Haydon 
expected,  but  this  only  added  to  its  surprising  beauty.  The 
effect  was  marvellous  and  highly  poetical.  The  committee 
heard  of  it,  and  with  the  meanness  of  men  came  up  to  see. 
His  painting-room  I  remember  was  crowded  for  days,  and  any- 
body who  formerly  said  that,  "no  Englishman  could  paint  in 
fresco, '  now  declared  "  nothing  was  so  easy."  The  scorn  and 
contempt  with  which  Haydou  listened  to  their  idle  gabble  can 
be  easily  conceived.* 

As  soon  as  the  Report  of  the  Fine  Arts  Committee  of  1841 
was  presented,  and  it  was  clear  to  Haydon's  sagacious  eye  that 
fresco  and  not  oil  painting  would,  for  some  reason,  be  the  mode 
of  decoration,  and  also  that  Sir  Robert  Peel  would  be  the  next 
Prime  Minister,  and  that  very  shortly,  he  sat  down  and  addressed 
a  "letter"  to  Sir  Robert  Peel  (lUth  August,  1841)  on  the 
Report  of  the  Committee.  This  letter  is  interesting  as  showing 
how  clearly  Haydon  understood  his  subject,  how  doubtful  he 
was  of  fresco  standing  at  Westminster  if  not  painted  with  the 
greatest  precaution,  and  how  necessary  for  the  honour  aud  credit 
of  England,  under  any  circumstances,  to  exclude  foreign  artists 
and  confide  the  work  wholly  to  British  painters;  and,  above 
all,  to  decorate  on  a  plan,  and  make  the  decorations  subordinate 
to  and  illustrative  of  the  great  principle  for  which  the  building 
is  erected.  When  the  general  election  of  1841  was  over  and 
Sir  Robert  Peel  secure  of  his  majority,  Haydon  addressed  a 
second  letter  to  him  (20th  September,  1841),  urging  him  not 
to  let  the  opportunity  for  a  grand  scheme  of  decoration  pass 
away,  and  giving  him  a  broad  hint  for  a  cartoon  competition, 
in  order  to  test  the  allegation  that  "  English  artists  could  not 

*  While  at  Dover,  in  May  of  this  year  1841,  Haydon  suddenly  received  news 
of  the  death  of  Sir  David  AVilkie  on"his  way  home  from  the  East.  It  rested  en 
his  mind  like  a  horrible  nightmare  fur  a  month,  and  took  him  quite  away  from 
everything  but  vain  n  grcts  and  reminiscences.  lie  was  deeply  attached  t> 
Wilkie.  and  so  I  believe  was  AVilkie  to  him.  One  great  regret  he  had.  and  that 
was  the  whole  of  the  thirty-nine  academicians  were  not  Hung  overboard  after  him, 
on  the  principle  of  sacrificing  to  the  manes  of  a  distingui  lied  man.  Woodbinn, 
AYidue's  companion,  told  mv  father  that  AVilkie  literally  quacked  himself  to 
death  with  drugs.  It  is  cm"  ions  how  often  delicate  men  and  women  will  persist 
in  this  dangerous  interference  with  the  chemistry  of  nature  — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


213 


draw."  To  Sir  Charles  Barry,  the  architect  of  the  new  Houses, 
Haydon  wrote  later  on,  urging  him  to  leave  space  for  the  fresco 
decorations.  Barry  replied  (18th  December),  "Be  assured 
that  I  am  still  disposed  to  afford  you  every  opportunity  and 
facility  within  my  power  for  carrying  out  the  object  you  have 
in  view  for  the  glory  of  British  art." 

In  November,  1841,  Sir  Robert  Peel,  as  Prime  Minister, 
obtained  the  appointment  of  a  Boyal  Commission  for  the 
purpose  "  of  inquiring  whether  advantage  might  not  be  taken 
of  the  rebuilding  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament  for  promoting 
and  encouraging  the  Fine  Arts,"  and  of  discovering  "  in  what 
manner  an  object  of  so  much  importance  would  be  most  effec- 
tually promoted  "  This  was  a  curious  way  to  put  the  case — 
to  inquire  if  one  thing  might  not  conduce  to  promote  some- 
thing else.  Who  could  doubt  that  encouragement  and  com- 
missions must  help  to  improve  art  ?  But  that  should  not  be 
the  object  of  a  great  public  work  which  ought  to  spring  from  a 
love  and  admiration  for  the  arts,  and  a  desire  to  possess  fine 
works  by  native  painters. 

Sir  Robert  Peel's  Royal  Commission  consisted  at  first  of 
twenty-two,  and  was  subsequently  raised  to  twenty-four  Com- 
missioners, including  statesmen,  politicians,  men  of  rank,  who 
had  no  other  proof  of  their  lives  but  that  they  were  only 
gentlemen  of  fortune,  dilettanti,  and  men  like  Lord  Macaulay 
and  Ballam,  and  Lord  Stanhope,  of  high  literary  repute. 
All  professional  artists  were  carefully  excluded.  The  only 
concession  made  to  the  art  was  to  appoint  Haydon's  pupil, 
Eastlake,  R.A.,  the  secretary,  "  a  very  fit  man,  but  timid."  This 
exclusion  of  professional  men  from  seats  on  the  Commission  is 
remarkable,  because  the  chief  advantage  of  a  Royal  Commis- 
sion over  a  Parliamentary  Committee  is  that,  while  in  the  latter 
case  the  Committee  is  strictly  confined  to  members  of  one  or 
both  Houses,  and  can  only  get  its  information  by  the  mere 
evidence  of  witnesses,  in  the  case  of  a  Royal  Commission  the 
Prime  Minister  can  place  upon  that  Commission  those  who 
are  practically  acquainted  with  the  matter  that  has  to  be  con- 
sidered, and  such  persons  are  much  more  likely  to  go  thoroughly 
and  certainly,  and  entirely  into  a  question  than  a  body  of  men 
who  have  no  practical  acquaintance  with  the  points  under 
inquiry,  however  eminent  or  distinguished  in  other  respects. 
And  the  explanation  which  has  recently  come  to  light  of  this 


214 


MEMOIR  OF 


exclusion  of  professional  painters  from  seats  on  the  Royal  Com- 
mission of  1841  is  extremely  curious. 

It  appears  that  Sir  Robert  Peel,  on  his  return  to  power  in 
1841,  was  uneasy  as  to  how  he  would  be  received  at  Court. 
Among  his  first  acts  he.  had,  as  we  have  seen,  taken  up  this 
question  of  decorating  the  new  Houses  where  Lord  Melbourne 
left  it,  and  Sir  Robert  Peel  now  suggested  to  Her  Majesty  that 
Prince  Albert  sho.uld  be  placed  at  the  head  of  the  Royal  Com- 
mission about  to  be  issued.  This  was  a  graceful  compliment  to 
the  Prince,  whose  income  Sir  Robert,  in  opposition,  had  just  cut 
down  by  20,000?.  a  year,  and  an  earnest  of  Sir  Robert  Peel's  desire 
to  stand  well  with  the  Queen  after  this,  and  his  bed-chamber 
fiasco  of  1839.  Whether  Sir  Robert  Peel  had  any  conversation 
with  the  Prince  on  the  subject  does  not  appear.  It  would  be 
improbable  that  he  had  not.  In  either  case,  on  the  3rd  October, 
1841,  the  Prince  addressed  a  remarkable  letter  to  Sir  Robert 
Peel.  The  Prince  says  that  he  has  "  thought  much  of  the 
proposed  plan  (of  a  Royal  Commission),  and  has  arrived  at  the 
conviction  that  there  had  better  be  no  artist  by  profession  on 
the  Committee."  This  looks  as  if  the  point  had  been  a  sub  ject 
of  discussion.  The  Prince  goes  on  to  give  his  reasons,  which 
appear  to  me  more  interesting  than  conclusive.  His  Royal 
Highness  is  "  afraid  the  discussions  upon  the  various  points 
raised  would  not  be  so  free  amongst  the  laymen,  if  distinguished 
professors  were  present,  as  these  would  scarcely  venture  to 
maintain  an  opinion  in  opposition  to  those  of  a  latter  class." 

The  fear  of  the  Prince,  in  short,  amounts  to  this,  that  an 
erroneous  opinion,  a  crotchet,  would  not  be  put  forward,  or  if 
put  forward,  was  not  likely  to  be  persevered  with  in  the  pre- 
sence of  practical  men.  Surely  that  was  the  value  of  the  pro- 
fessional man  !  And  one  chief  use  and  advantage  of  a  Royal 
Commission  was  that,  it  allowed  the  professional  man  to  be 
present  at  the  Board,  so  that  he  could  act  as  a  check  upon 
dangerous  crotchets.  But  the  effect  of  Prince  Albert's  proposal 
was  to  destroy  all  this,  and  to  allow  amateur  ignorance  not  to 
act  as  a  check  upon  the  balance  of  professional  opinion,  but  to 
be  the  balance  itself.  All  the  exquisite  perplexities  of  art 
involved  in  this  great  scheme  of  public  decoration  were  to  be 
resolved  by  the  acknowledged  technical  ignorance  of  the  Com- 
missioners, or  by  the  simplicity  of  their  inexperieneo.  We, 
now  living,  see  the  result. 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


215 


The  reasoning  of  his  Eoyal  Highness  was  unsound,  and  should 
have  been  combated  by  Sir  Kobert  Peel,  considering  the  object 
the  Commission  was  appointed  to  determine.  That  it  was  not 
resisted  explains  a  good  deal.  It  certainly  helps  us  to  under- 
stand why  we  have  hitherto  so  eminently  prospered  in  our 
attempts  at  public  decoration,  whether  in  architecture,  sculp- 
ture, or  painting — matters  in  which  nobody  but  the  professional 
man  has  sufficient  and  reliable  knowledge,  but  which  we  in- 
variably hand  over  to  committees  of  non-professional  men. 
I  must  refuse  to  believe  such  a  proposal  originated  with 
such  a  clear-sighted  and  sagacious  man  as  Prince  Albert.  It 
must  have  been  astutely  suggested  to  him,  for  some  ulterior 
object,  and  the  remarkable  readiness  of  Sir  Kobert  Peel,  a  man 
so  experienced  and  so  capable,  to  accept  this  singular  sugges- 
tion when  made,  throws  a  grave  suspicion  over  the  whole  trans- 
action. Sir  Robert  Peel  and  the  Prince  had  come  to  an  un- 
derstanding before  the  2nd  October.  On  the  4th  October,  1841, 
Sir  Eobert  Peel  replies,  "  I  am  strongly  inclined  to  think  that 
the  views  of  your  Royal  Highness  with  regard  to  the, including 
of  professional  men  in  the  Commission  are  perfectly  just." 

And  so  it  came  about  that  while  the  leading  literary  men 
were  put  on  the  Commission,  the  leading  artists  were  excluded. 
Professional  asperities  were  to  be  replaced  by  high-bred  for- 
bearance;  in  short,  it  was  the  famous  "  Committee  of  Taste  " 
revived,  and  it  ended  in  as  bad  a  failure.  For,  without  any  want 
of  loyalty  or  feeling  of  disrespect,  it  may  be  safely  asserted  the 
country  got  a  very  bad  bargain.  The  immediate  result  was 
not  a  little  curious.  Cornelius,  the  German  painter,  suddenly 
arrived  in  London  from  Munich.  He  was  received  with  extra- 
ordinary distinction  by  the  Prince,  and  by  3ir  Robert  Peel. 
He  was  taken  everywhere  by  Sir  Robert's  request.  But  he 
never  reached  Haydon's  studio.  This  was  at  least  remarkable, 
for  of  all  men  he  would  come  and  see,  one  would  think  he 
would  come  to  see  the  intimate  friend  and  correspondent  of  his 
own  great  friend  Rumohr,  to  say  nothing  of  Haydon's  position 
in  the  art.  But  he  never  came.  Haydon  began  to  scent  mis- 
chief; he  had  many  and  various  sources  of  information.  In 
a  short  time  he  arrived  at  the  conviction  that  the  Prince  was 
in  favour  of  giving  the  entire  control  of  the  decoration  of  the 
Houses  to  Cornelius,  leaving  the  practical  part  only  to  the 
English  artists.    I  believe  him  to  have  had  good  grounds  for 


2l6 


MEMOIR  OF 


this  conclusion.  And  he  had  also  good  reason  for  believing 
that  Sir  Robert  Peel  was  "  strongly  inclined  to  think  that,"  in 
this  case  as  in  the  other,  "the  views  of  his  Royal  .Highness 
were  "  perfectly  just." 

Haydon  goes  off  to  Eastlake  (30th  October)  and  has  a 
long  conversation.  Eastlake  had  seen  Cornelius.  On  the 
^nd  December,  1841,  Eastlake  had  an  interview  with  Prince 
Albert  with  reference  to  the  business  of  the  Royal  Com- 
mission, of  which  he  was  appointed  Secretary.  The  Prince, 
with  all  that  frankness  which  appears  to  have  distinguished 
him  in  his  intercourse  with  professional  men,  and  probably 
not  aware  of  Eastlake's  relations  with  Haydon,  spoke  out  his 
views  on  the  subject  of  the  decoration  of  the  Houses.  What 
those  views  were  I  cannot  say ;  but  I  think  my  father  knew, 
and  we  can  easily  infer,  for  in  describing  his  interview  with 
the  Prince,  after  the  Prince  had  spoken,  Eastlake.  in  a  letter 
which  has  been  published,  says,  "  I  thought  that  the  moment 
had  come  when  I  must  vtalce  a  stand  against  the  introduction 
of  foreign  artists."  But  then,  evidently  fearing  he  had  gone 
too  far,  or  with  the  view  to  draw  the  Prince  out  further, 
Ewsthike  immediately  modified  his  objections  by  saying  he 
saw  no  reason  why  "Germans  might  not  be  employed  under 
English  artists."  But  Prince  Albert,  upon  this,  said  he  saw 
"  no  reason  "  for  that,  and  would  not  admit  it  was  necessary ; 
"  for,"  said  the  Prince,  "  I  am  convinced  in  all  that  relates  to 
practical  dexterity  the  English  are  particularly  skilful." 

This  appears  to  have  satisfied  Eastlake,  and  nothing  more  is 
needed,  I  think,  to  show  that  Haydon's  information  was  correct, 
and  that  the  Prince,  who  had  formed  his  opinion  of  English 
art  from  Sir  Martin  Shee  and  the  Academy,  for  his  Royal 
Highness  was  not  permitted  to  visit  Haydon's  studio  or  those 
of  the  anti-academicians,  and  anxious  to  raise  a  school  of  fresco 
in  England,  had  come  to  the  hasty  conclusion  that  no  English 
artist  could  draw  and  design  sufficiently  well  to  paint  in  fresco  ; 
hence,  in  his  sincere  anxiety  to  make  the  public  decoration 
of  the  Houses  worthy  of  the  nation,  he  sought  to  introduce  the 
best  aid  in  design  that  he  knew  of,  and  that  was  from  the 
Germans,  Cornelius,  Hess,  and  Overbeck.  In  due  time  the 
Prince,  supported  by  Sir  Robert  Peel,  formally  made  the  pro- 
posal at  a  meeting  of  the  Commissioners  to  call  over  Cornelius, 
Hess,  and  Overbeek,  and  employ  them  to  design  the  decoration 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


of  the  Houses.  No  opposition  was  offered,  those  who  disap- 
proved took  refuge  in  silence,  and  the  proposal  was  carried. 
In  a  few  hours  it  came  to  Haydon's  knowledge.  He  brooded 
moodily  over  it.  His  loyalty  to  the  Queen  and  his  delight  at 
finding  in  Prince  Albert  some  indications  of  a  love  for  High 
Art  prevented  any  immediate  expression  of  opinion.  He  seemed 
all  at  once  to  wish  to  get  out  of  the  whole  thing ;  he  talked 
of  going  to  Italy — going  abroad  altogether.  After  a  while  he 
wrote  to  Sir  Robert  Peel  offering  to  go  to  Italy  and  make  a 
careful  examination  of  all  the  existing  frescoes,  as,  in  his 
opinion,  it  was  highly  important  this  should  be  done,  if  fresco 
was  to  be  employed.  Sir  Robert  Peel  coldly  acknowledged 
Haydon's  letter,  took  note  of  its  main  suggestion,  and  shortly 
after  sent  out  Mr.  Wilson,  of  the  London  School  of  Design. 

A  thousand  trifles  such  as  this,  light  as  air,  showed  Haydon 
whose  "  fine  Roman  hand  "  was  pulling  the  wires.  At  length 
the  intention  of  the  Prince  to  employ  the  Germans  leaked 
out,  and  created  such  a  feeling  of  profound  dissatisfaction  in 
the  art,  Haydon  could  keep  silence  no  longer.  He  wrote  letters 
to  the  '  Times '  under  an  assumed  name — the  '  Times  '  never 
refuses  genuine  public  feeling — but  there  was  no  mistaking 
the  style  or  the  subject — "  aut  Erasmi  aut  diaboli."  They 
were  too  bold,  too  full  of  "  odious  truth  "  for  any  other  writer 
but  Haydon.  "  This  German  nuisance,"  he  wrote,  with  his 
usual  imprudence,  "  must  be  put  down."  This  was  not  in 
good  taste,  and  was  highly  indiscreet,  but  Haydon  hated 
quilibling  and  uncandid  statements.  What  he  approved  he 
always  defended ;  what  he  disapproved  he  condemned,  and 
endeavoured  to  give  good  and  sufficient  reasons.  He  denounced 
the  employment  of  Germans  as  unpatriotic  and  unnecessary, 
and  showed  that  it  was  not  necessary.  And  no  doubt  Haydon 
was  right  in  the  abstract :  it  was  not  necessary,  and  the  pro- 
posal was  unpatriotic  for  Sir  Robert  Peel  to  support  and 
the  commissioners  to  accept.  But,  for  my  humble  part,  I 
must  confess,  looking  at  the  result,  and  since  Haydon,  the  best 
man  in  England  fitted  to  superintend  the  work,  was  to  be 
excluded,  I  regret  the  Germans  were  not  called  in.  They  could 
not  well  have  done  worse ;  they  might  have  done  better — at 
least  it  is  impossible  to  believe  they  would  have  given  us  such 
a  jumble  of  absurdity  as  we  have  got — and  they  would  cer- 
tainly have  cost  the  country  less.    Cornelius  would  have  left 


218 


MEMOIR  OF 


us  something  we  have  not  got — something  in  genuine  fresco, 
and,  for  the  honour  of  German  art,  let  us  hope,  something  that 
would  have  excited  higher  feelings  and  nobler  thoughts  than 
we  have  to  look  at  now,  but  happily,  by  all  accounts,  shall  not 
have  to  look  at  many  years  longer. 

Thus  it  was  that  Ha v  don  began  to  speak  out  the  truth  that 
was  in  him.  Had  he  only  consented  to  speak  half  his  thoughts 
he  might  have  escaped  the  censure,  and  perhaps  have  obtained 
the  favour  of  at  least  one  eminent  personage.  But  throughout 
his  life  there  is  certainly  this  to  be  said  for  Haydon — and  for 
my  part  I  honour  him  for  it — he  never  hesitated  to  incur  cen- 
sure, even  to  his  own  ruin,  by  rejecting  a  course  at  variance 
with  his  convictions  as  to  that  which  was  best  for  the  art  and 
the  country.  For  a  man  who  loved  approbation  so  dearly, 
who  strove  so  passionately  to  merit  it,  and  to  whom  censure  or 
neglect  was  such  an  intolerable  evil,  I  venture  to  think  he  de- 
serves the  highest  praise  for  his  plain-speaking  on  this  occasion. 
I  have  as  little  doubt  that  the  result  was  quite  clear  to  him.  If 
he  helped  to  shut  out  the  Germans  he  shut  out  himself;  he  shut 
out  the  Germans,  and  he  was  refused  all  employment  in  the 
decoration  of  the  Houses. 

The  Royal  Commissioners  had  not  met  in  consultation  many 
times  after  the  breaking  of  the  German  stick  they  had  relied 
on,  before  they  found  in  what  a  hopeless  predicament  they 
were  falling  from  want  of  professional  men  at  their  Board. 
Eastlake,  their  secretary,  saved  them  from  making  themselves 
ridiculous  by  their  propositions  and  counter-propositions,  and 
curious  display  of  incapacity  and  ignorance  on  all  essential 
points,  by  persuading  them  to  adopt  Haydon's  plan,  18K>-]7, 
of  an  exhibition  of  cartoons,  in  order  to  test  the  capacity  of  the 
English  artists  in  drawing  and  design,  and  thus  relieved  the 
Commissioners  of  the  difficulty  of  selecting  and  entrusting  one 
man  to  conduct  the  whole,  and  the  right  ,  men  to  serve  under 
him.  It  was  a  weak  plan,  a  poor  expedient — on  a  par  with  the 
practice  of  the  Greek  mariners  casting  lots  who  should  have 
the  management  of  the  vessel,  instead  of  boldly  choosing  tho 
best  seaman. 

Towards  the  end  of  April  1842  a  notice  of  the  conditions  of 
this  public  cartoon  competition  was  issued.  Prizes  of  30  >, 
200,  and  100  guineas  were  to  be  competed  for.  The  leading 
painters  of  established  reputation  were  thus  placed  upon  the 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


219 


same  level  with  their  pupils  and  young  students  who  had  never 
painted  a  picture.  The  spirit  which  dictated  this  can  be  easily 
understood.  "  If  it  were  not  for  the  Royal  Academy,"  said 
Collins,  the  painter,  to  Haydon  at  this  date,  "  artists  would  be 
treated  like  journeymen:"  and  there  was  a  good  deal  of  truth  in 
the  conclusion,  though  we  may  venture  to  doubt  the  premise. 
Put  the  curious  feature  of  this  projected  public  cartoon  com- 
petition was,  that  the  public  were  to  have  no  voice  in  the 
choice  of  winners.  That  was  to  be  done  for  them  beforehand  by 
six  judges,  of  whom  Sir  Robert  Peel  put  himself  at  the  head ! 
So  that  we  had  this  result  in  view :  a  public  competition  cf 
artists  for  a  public  work  was  to  take  place,  but  certain  persons, 
other  than  the  public,  were  to  choose  the  artists  to  be  appointed 
to  the  work  before  the  public  were  admitted  !  The  fine 
"  Roman  hand  "  again  of  the  greatest  Parliamentary  Ambiguity 
that  ever  lived,  is  here  distinctly  visible.  One  result  was,  of 
course,  the  introduction  of  canvassing  among  relatives  and 
friends,  and  a  decision  which,  under  cover  of  public  judgment, 
was  purely  patronage  without  its  honour ;  and,  what  was  of 
more  importance  still,  without  its  responsibility. 

The  moment  Haydon  read  the  terms  of  the  notice,  he  had 
grave  doubts  of  the  propriety  of  a  painter  of  his  established 
reputation  descending  into  the  arena  to  compete  with  beardless 
boys.  He  did  not  approve  of  competition  after  a  certain  age  ; 
for  young  men  it  might  do,  but  selection  was  the  principle  for 
men  of  established  reputation,  and  they  will  then  form  the 
students.  I  regret  he  did  not  adl  ere  to  this  view  ;  but,  alas, 
the  legal  wolf  was  once  more  scratching  at  his  door.  He  said 
that  if  he  did  not  compete  his  enemies  would  have  cried  out, 
"  See,  he  shrinks  from  a  public  trial!"  But  surely  the  man 
who  had  painted  the  '  Judgment  of  Solomon,'  the  '  Jerusalem,' 
the  '  Lazarus,'  the  '  Punch,'  the  '  Curtius,'  and  his  hundred 
other  works,  could .  have  afforded  his  greatest  enemy  the 
enjoyment  of  that  little  triumph. .  No,  it  was  no  fear  of  that 
nature  that  prompted  him  to  enter  the  lists;  it  was  the  hope 
of  winning  a  three  hundred  guinea  prize  that  decided  him. 
And  so  he  entered  the  lists,  all  the  while  declaring  that,  if  his 
"  cartoons  "  were  as  perfect  as  Raphael  could  make  them,  he 
knew  he  had  no  chance.  He  wrote  to  this  effect  to  me.  He 
said  he  ought  not  to  compete,  that  he  knew  the  feeling  of  pre- 
judice was  so  strong  against  him  he  should  be  refused,  but  that 


220 


MEMOIR  OF 


he  was  "  so  pressed  for  money "  he  could  not  decline  the 
chance.  An  intimate  friend  of  Sir  Eobert  Peel's  warned  him 
that  he  had  "  no  chance."  Barry  told  him  "  there  is  a  dead 
set  against  you  among  the  Commissioners*';  "  and  Eastlake — 
good,  gentle  Sir  Charles — though  he  would  have  been  glad 
enough,  I  believe,  to  help  his  old  master,  whose  benefits  to  him 
he  had  declared  he  never  could  forget  to  his  dying  day,  whs 
too  much  engaged  in  watching  the  "  wind,"  like  a  master- 
mariner  in  uncertain  weather,  in  the  hope  of  reaching  his  port, 
viz.,  the  decoration  of  the  Houses,  to  maintain  Haydon's 
claims  against  such  determined  hostility  to  him,  and  such 
indifference  to  art,  as  the  nobility  displayed.  But  he 
certainly  gave  Haydon  all  the  hints  he  dare,  and  these  are 
not  favourable. 

All  this  only  added  zest  to  the  determination  of  Haydon  to 
compete.  He  shut  himself  up  with  his  two  cartoons  and  his 
pecuniary  embarrassments,  which  were  now  becoming  most 
harassing  from  the  postponement  of  two  commissions,  and  other 
professional  disappointments,  and  worked  vigorously  for  six 
months,  till  he  had  completed  the  cartoons.  One  was  '  The 
Curse  of  Adam  and  Eve,'  the  other,  '  The  Entry  of  King  John 
of  France  into  London  '  after  Poitiers.  This  was  his  answer  to 
Sir  Robert  Peel  and  the  Commissioners.  Sir  Eobert  had  the 
right  of  reply. 

There  were  three  distinct  parties  of  competitors :  the  Eoyal 
Academicians  and  their  party  ;  Haydon  and  the  reform  party  ; 
and  the  young  students.  The  exhibition  of  cartoons  took  place 
at  Westminster  Hall,  in  the  season  of  J8EJ.  The  result  <lis>i- 
pated  the  unjust  suspicion  that  the  lay  artists  of  England 
could  neither  draw  nor  design.  The  power  displayed  was 
astonishing ;  and  when  Haydon  went  into  the  room  he  ex- 
pressed his  joy  heartily  and  without  reserve.  The  young 
students  crowded  round  him  and  congratulated  him  warmly, 
saying  "  We  owe  this  all  to  you."  This  soothed  him  for  what 
had  happened. 

Before  the  exhibition  was  thrown  open  to  the  public,  six 
judges  were  appointed  by  the  Roj  al  Commissioners  to  select  the 
winning  candidates  ;  so  that  the  public  were  only  admitted  to 
approve  their  selection — a  reversal  of  the  true  principle.  These 
"judges"  consisted  of  Sir  Eobert  Peel,  Lord  Lansdowne.  Mr. 
Eugers3  and  three  members  of  the  Eoyal  Academy.    As  Sir 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


221 


Robert  Peel  was  the  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury,  and  official 
supporter  of  the  Academy  in  the  House  of  Commons,  Lord 
Lansduwne,  their  defender  in  the  House  of  Lords,  and  Mr. 
Rogers  only  represented  the  Commissioners,  it  will  be  seen 
that,  with  the  three  Royal  Academicians,  the  Academy  com- 
manded five  votes  out  of  the  six.  The  reform  party  were  not 
represented  at  all.  I  do  not  wish  to  cast  any  imputations,  but 
I  must  say,  that  had  one  of  the  Royal  Academicians  and  one 
of  their  friends  been  replaced  by  Wordsworth,  whose  knowledge 
of  art,  and  independence,  were  well  known ;  and  by  Mr. 
Hume,  M.P.,  whose  judgment  in  drawing  was  unquestionable, 
from  his  intimate  knowledge  of  anatomy ;  all  the  contending 
parties  would  have  been  fairly  represented,  and  the  committee 
of  judgment  accepted  as  satisfactory  to  the  public.  But  this 
was  a  concession  Sir  Robert  Peel  could  not  bring  himself  to 
make.  Out  of  evident  fear  of  any  accident  he  had  put  him- 
self at  the  head  of  the  judges,  and  he  was  not  the  man  to 
imperil  his  majority  by  an  act  of  foirness  to  his  opponents; 
that  was  beyond  his  calibre.  It  is  remarkable  in  so  astute 
a  man  as  the  late  Sir  Robert  Peel  that,  with  all  his  knowledge 
of  the  art  of  putting  the  right  men  into  the  right  places,  for 
the  particular  purpose  he  had  in  view,  he  habitually  forgot 
what  a  vastly  important  matter  it  is  to  find  a  satisfactory 
position  for  the  discontented.  He  suffered  from  this  more  than 
once  in  his  career. 

When  the  time  came  for  decision,  which  Sir  Robert  Peel 
had  proposed  should  be  given  before  the  public  were  admitted, 
the  six  judges  went  round  and  made  an  inspection.  'I  he  car- 
toons of  the  Royal  Academicians  were  so  glaringly  defective 
in  drawing,  expression,  and  power,  it  was  out  of  the  question  to 
award  a  prize  to  any  academician.  The  cartoons  of  the 
reform  party  and  of  the  young  students  were  pronounced  to 
be  so  equal  in  power,  drawing,  expression,  and  character,  the 
judges  declared  themselves  at  a  loss  how  to  decide.  This  looks 
like  artifice  on  the  part  of  Sir  Robert  Peel.  Prince  Albert 
then  came  in  and  was  shown  round.  On  coming  before  the 
cartoon  of  the  English  pupil  of  De  la  Roche  he  stopped,  and 
said  "  That  is  worth  tlOOOl. ;"  Etty  and  the  artists  on  the  com- 
mittee of  judges,  says  Haydon,  "held  down  their  heads.''  The 
cartoon  was  defective  in  drawing  ami  proportion ;  but  that, 
in  the  opinion  of  such  a  courtier  as  Sir  Robert  Peel  had  now 


222 


MEMOIR  OF 


become,  was  of  no  consequence  after  the  remark  of  the  Prince 
Consort.  This  cartoon  headed  the  list  of  three  hundred  guinea 
prizes.* 

A  vast  deal  of  coquetting  then  appears  to  have  gone  on 
between  the  Prince,  the  judges,  and  the  other  cartoons.  At 
length  the  judges  arrived  at  a  decision :  the  prizes  were  en- 
tirely distributed  among  the  young  students.  Thus,  if  they 
could  not  conscientiously  reward  the  "  Royal  Academicians," 
they  would  not  reward  the  "  Reformers,"  nor  that  arch-rebel  at 
their  head.  The  Treasury  oyster  they  gave  to  the  young 
students;  the  shells  were  at  the  disposal  of  the  rival  claimants. 
Haydon  was  not  even  admitted  to  be  worthy  of  one  of  the 
louest  prizes. 

Having  effected  this  distribution  of  prize,  the  Committee  of 
Judgment  might  have  retired  with  a  certain  halo  of  judicious 
discretion,  if  not  of  impartiality.  But  when  the  public  were 
admitted  and  it  was  seen  the  selected  champions  of  our  great 
ai  t  institution,  which  Sir  Robert  Peel  had  so  often  defended 
against  Haydon's  assaults  in  Parliament  as  the  sacred  deposit 
of  art  and  design  in  England,  were  absolutely  incompetent  as 
against  the  great  body  of  lay  artists,  and  that  a  committee 
composed  of  its  best  friends,  with  Sir  Robert  Peel  at  their 
head,  was  compelled  to  pass  them  over  without  a  prize  and  in 
silence,  the  public  first  began  to  laugh,  and  then  began  to 
murmur.  "  It  is  true,"  was  said,  "  Haydon  has  not  won  a 
prize,  but  that  does  not  prove  his  estimate  of  the  Academy  to 
be  wrong."  And  as  many  competent  judges  in  and  out  of  the 
art  declared  Haydon's  cartoons  to  be  worthy  of  the  highest 
prizes,  the  situation  became  embarrassing.  Ominous  words 
were  heard  from  members  of  Parliament ;  Sir  Robert  became 
alarmed.  Something  must  be  done  to  restore  the  failing  credit 
of  the  Academy  and  the  committee,  or  both  would  go  down  in 
public  estimation.  But  what  was  to  be*  done  ?  There  was  the 
difficulty.    Now  this  was  just  one  of  those  cases  with  which 

*  My  father  used  to  tell  a  little  bit  of  Court  gossip-he  had  many  sources  of 
in  Co  i  ination—  us  to  this  t  articular  caitoon.  De  la  Roche  was  a  great  fiiend  of  the 
late  Lord  Ellesmere,  and  also  of  his  brother,  the  late  Duke  of  Sutherland,  and  he 
be-ouuht  their  influence  on  behalf  of  his  young  pupil,  though  I  believe  wholly 
without  his  pupil's  consent,  or  even  knowledge.  The  services  of  the  Duchess 
were  also  enlisted.  All  fair  enough,  if  the  Commission,  of  which  Prince  Albeit 
was  the  head,  had  not  passed  a  rule  that  no  names  of  competitors  were  to  be 
known.  But  Suckling's  experience  of  Court  life  holds  good,  viz.,  "  He  that's 
be>t  horsed,  that  is  best  friend!  d,  gets  in  soonest;  and  all  that  he  has  to  do  is  to 
laugh  at  those  that  are  behind.*' — Ei>. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


223 


the  late  Sir  Robert  Peel,  of  all  men,  was  eminently  fitted  to 
deal.  There  was  a  difficulty ;  he  delighted  in  "  difficulties." 
And  to  meet  it  an  "expedient"  was  required;  no  man  was 
more  fertile  in  "  expedients."  He  revelled  in  them,  he  played 
with  them  like  a  gambler  with  his  tossing  shilling  ;  and  he 
always  kept  a  stock  on  hand.  No  more  money  could  be  got 
from  the  public  treasury  without  due  recognition  of  the 
cartoons  and  the  reformers,  or  the  risk  of  parliamentary  ques- 
tions. That  was  to  be  avoided.  For  the  object  was  not  to 
reward  the  reformers'  successes,  but  to  bolster  up  the  academical 
failures.  Sir  Robert  was  equal  to  the  occasion.  He  brought 
out  an  expedient ;  it  was  neat,  it  was  new,  it  was  appropriate, 
and  it  exactly  fitted  the  dilemma.  He  would  intercept  the 
entrance  shillings  of  the  exhibition,  and  that  not  being  strictly 
"  public  money,"  the  judges  might  deal  with  it  as  their  own. 

The  entrance  money  of  the  exhibition  was  quietly  appro- 
priated, and  a  second  distribution  of  prizes  suddenly  announced. 
The  public  were  interested  to  observe  that,  the  entire  sum 
was  distributed  in  gratuities  among  the  Royal  Academicians 
and  their  known  supporters.  An  expression  of  "  regret  there 
was  no  more  money  at  the  disposal  of  the  committee  "  was 
offered  as  sufficient  consolation  for  the  reform  party. 

Thus  ended  the  famous  cartoon  contest  of  1843,  and  few  but 
myself  will  blame  Haydon,  alter  this  result,  for  not  competing 
the  year  following  in  fresco.  I  venture  to  think  he  should.  I 
would  not  have  entered  into  the  contest,  but  having  done  so, 
I  would  have  gone  through  with  it,  even  with  the  assured 
information  he  had  that  the  commissioners  were  "  resolved  not 
to  employ  "  him.  I  would  not  have  allowed  Sir  Robert  Peel 
or  the  Commissioners  such  an  excuse  for  not  employing  me. 
Haydon  was  one  of  the  most  competent  men  in  England  to 
paint  in  fresco,  and  could  have  painted  a  fresco  that  defied 
competition.  If  they  then  passed  him  over,  the  matter  would 
have  been  brought  under  the  notice  of  Parliament. 

His  reason  for  not  further  competing  was  that  he  really 
could  not  afford  the  loss  of  unrewarded  time.  Yet,  when  next 
year  he  saw  the  hot  and  offensive  productions  that  were  put 
forth  by  the  competitors  in  fresco,  he  half  regretted  he  had  not 
taken  up  the  challenge  for  the  sake  of  the  art.  For  the  Royal 
Commissioners  with  characteristic  want  of  confidence  in  their 
own  judgment,  if  no  ulterior  motive  was  there,  had  asked  the 


224 


MEMOIR  OF 


artists  to  compote  again  this  time  for  fresco !  This  was  "un 
peu  trop  fort."  The  artists  had  come  forward  generously, 
for  the  majority  had  no  hope  of  prize,  and  given  up  six 
months  of  their  time  to  the  production  of  cartoons  in  order  to 
show  the  public  how  Englishmen  could  draw,  and  now  they 
were  asked  to  repeat  the  process  of  showing  how  they  could 
paint.  The  whole  thing  was  laughable,  for  surely  if  the  Com- 
missioners could  select  prizemen  in  cartoons,  they  could  select 
the  painters  in  fresco  at  once,  and  have  done  with  it.  But  no, 
they  must  have  another  competition.  Nine-tenths  of  the  artists, 
with  Haydon  at  their  head,  refused  to  have  anything  more  to 
do  with  the  business,  and  returned  to  their  home  employment. 

Yet  with  characteristic  unselfishness  I  find  Haydon  offered 
to  aid  the  Commission  in  every  way  in  his  power,  and  even 
to  assist  those  who  were  appointed  over  his  head  to  conduct 
the  decorations. 

It  would,  however,  be  idle  to  deny  that  Haydon  secretly 
hoped  Sir  Robert  Peel  would  relent,  and  allow  him  to  be 
employed.  But  that  was  out  of  the  question  with  a  man  of 
the  nature  of  the  late  Sir  Robert  Peel.  I  believe  he  had  con- 
ceived so  much  secret  regret  and  vexation  over  the  '  Napoleon ' 
that  nothing  but  the  disgrace  of  Haydon  could  cancel  his  own 
want  of  generosity  by  covering  Haydon  with  shame.  The  com- 
plete rejection  of  Haydon  from  all  share  in  his  own  plan 
would  ease  the  reproaches  of  Sir  Robert's  conscience,  revenge 
his  private  injury,  and  free  the  Royal  Commission  from  a  man 
they  must  either  have  retained  with  fear,  or  dismissed  with 
danger.  Couple  this  with  Sir  Robert  Peel's  subservience  to 
rank,  and  his  longing  to  increase  the  influence  of  authority, 
though  aware  of  the  necessity  of  checking  it,  and  his  conse- 
quent dislike  to  a  man  who  was  the  rebel  against  the  con- 
stituted authorities  in  art ;  the  malignant  who  had  brought 
before  a  Whig  parliamentary  committee  that "  Royal  Academy  " 
Sir  Robert  Peel  and  his  colleague,  Lord  Lyndhurst,  had  taken 
under  their  protection ;  who  had  attacked  and  shaken  the 
authority  of  that  "  Academy,"  and  even  compelled  Sir  Robert 
Peel  on  one  occasion  to  divide  the  House,  and  only  to  save 
himself  and  his  protege  by  a  bare  majority  of  five ;  who 
had  scattered  the  connoisseurs  by  making  them  ridiculous, 
and  shown  the  nobility  to  themselves  in  the  light  in  which 
others  see  them,  and  much  may  be  explained.    "  Was  such  a 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


22$ 


man  as  this  to  be  endured,  when  it  was  possible  to  stamp  him 
down  ?"  To  put  him  on  the  Royal  Commission,  his  proper 
place,  or  to  give  him  the  control,  or  any  share  in  the  control 
and  management  of  the  great  public  work  before  them,  was 
"  to  give  sanction  and  encouragement  to  a  man  whose  whole 
career  had  been  one  resolute  struggle  to  maintain  the  interests 
of  his  art  and  to  inspire  a  zeal  for  the  independence  and  liberty 
of  artists,"  (who,  in  the  opinion  of  the  nobility,  only  deserve 
to  be  treated  like  journeymen,)  "  rather  than  respect  for  the 
nobility,  the  patrons,  and  the  constituted  authorities  in  art." 
To  the  precise  and  officially  trained  mind  of  Sir  Robert  Peel 
there  can  be  little  doubt,  even  putting  aside  his  personal 
grievance  against  Haydon,  all  this  was  sufficient  to  inspire  him 
with  a  feeling  of  repugnance  to  the  man.  But  when  Haydon 
scented  out  and  denounced  the  "  Cornelius  job "  I  think  Sir 
Robert  Peel  must  have  well-nigh  hated  him.* 

Yet  the  prejudices  and  politics  of  art  should  have  had  no 
place  surely  in  a  great  question  of  public  decoration,  for  which 
by  his  art,  and  his  practice  of  it  Haydon  was  the  fittest  man  in 
England,  nay,  I  dare  say,  in  Europe.  So  far  as  Haydon  was 
personally  concerned,  the  whole  case  shows  how  difficult  must 
have  been  his  position.  Many  blamed  him  for  the  course  he 
took;  but  in  truth  it  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  matters  in  life 
to  rightly  discern  when  and  with  whom  you  should  be  modest 
and  humble,  that  is,  if  you  wish  to  carry  your  point. 

Humility  may  not  only  do  you  no  good,  but  positive  harm 
with  men  of  ungenerous  minds.  And  it  is  a  prodigious  mis- 
take to  suppose  you  can,  with  such  men,  obliterate  the  sense  of 
an  old  injury  by  a  new  benefit.  All  things  considered,  I  think 
Haydon  took  the  best  course  open  to  him.  That  he  acted  sin- 
cerely and  without  regard  to  his  own  interests  must  be  admitted. 
And  the  result  probably  was  the  same  in  the  end.  It  matters 
little  whether  the  melon  falls  on  the  knife,  or  the  knife  on  the 
melon,  it  is  the  melon  that  suffers,  says  the  proverb. 

Yet  he  did  not  despair  of  that  "  public  employment "  he 

*  Sir  Robert  Peel  never  forgave  Haydon  his  interference  on  this  occasion.  Ho 
was  not  unwilling  to  profit  by  Haydou's  knowledge  and  suggestions  and  labours ; 
but  it  could  not  be  permitted  that  a  man  who  devoted  himself  to  the  prevention 
of  a  '  Court  job,"  as  well  as  to  the  reform  of  the  constituted  authorit  es  in  art, 
should  be  placed  in  conjunction  or  competition  with  the  principle  of  authority  ; 
t.  at  was  not  to  be  entertained.  And  there  was  much  to  recommend  this  to  tuo 
official  mind.  Official  life  has  peculiar  rules  of  conduct  of  its  own.  These  are  not 
always  conformable  to  the  public  good,  and,  in  the  nakedness  of  their  nature, 
may  serve  to  explain  why  in  times  of  great  urgency  there  is  not  often  one  w.se 
man  to  be  found  in  a  whole  Department. — Ed. 

VOL.  I.  Q 


226 


MEMOIR  OF 


longetl  for.  Certainly  ho  was  a  sanguine  man.  He  continued 
to  correspond  with  Kastlake,  but  refused  to  take  hints,  stand- 
ing, as  it  were,  buffeting  with  Fortune,  yet  making  no  advance, 
lie  reminds  me  of  the  Athenians,  when  Philip  was  preparing 
to  invade  them,  expending  their  time  in  oratorical  displays. 
He  would  not  admit  he  had  no  chance  of  employment,  so  lonp: 
as  the  final  selection  of  the  fresco  painters  was  undecided. 
And  perhaps  it  was  natural.  We  have,  all  of  us,  an  instinctive 
antipathy  to  complete  resignations.  It  is  impossible,  how- 
ever, to  refuse  him  our  sympathy.  For  had  he  not  good 
claim,  not  only  to  employment,  but  to  the  chief  employ- 
ment ?  The  plan  was  his,  he  was  literally  the  cause  of  the 
thing  being  done  at  all,  and  he  had  painted  a  fresco  on 
his  own  painting-room  wall  that  nothing  exhibited  could 
compete  with.  In  spite  of  what  was  freely  urged  at  the 
time,  that  "  Haydon  was  failing  in  physical  powers,"  you  had 
only  to  look  at  his  ruddy  cheek  and  robust  figure,  to  see 
the  denial  there.  He  was  no  more  failing  for  art  than  Sir 
liobert  Peel  was  for  politics.  No,  "his  eye  was  not  dim  nor 
his  natural  force  abated,"  and  therefore  I  take  that  excuse  at 
its  value.*  In  the  year  1842  Haydon  had  painted  three  large 
pictures,  finished  two  others,  and  one  cartoon.  This,  besides 
sketches,  correspondence,  writing  his  own  memoirs,  and  writing 
and  delivering  fresh  lectures  in  London  and  the  provinces. 
There  is  no  sign  of  failing  power  here.  Haste,  perhaps,  but 
no  loss  of  power,  which  only  asked  freedom  from  disturbance 
and  pecuniary  pressure,  to  come  forth  with  finer  effect  than  at 
any  former  period  of  his  life.  Nor  is  the  question  here,  which 
painter  was  most  agreeable  to  the  Coiirt,  though  the  pre- 
judices of  the  Court  deserve  to  be  respected,  but  which  was 
best  for  the  public  interest.  Here  was  the  Englishman  ot 
established  reputation,  who  had  executed  the  greatest  works  in 
oil  ever  produced  by  the  English  school;  who  had  always 
practised  in  oil  the  habits  of  fresco;  whose  knowledge  of 
anatomy  was  unrivalled ;  whose  power  of  correct  drawing  from 
his  study  and  knowledge  of  the  particular  function  of  each 

*  Haydon  was  not  yet  sixty,  the  age  when  Milton  wrote  his  'Paradise  Lost,' 
and  Cane  v  his  '  Canterbury  Tales '  The  intellectual  powers  of  a  healthy  man 
of  tine  imagination  and  pure  life,  so  far  from  tailing  grow  stronger  between  fifty 
and  se\enty-five;  and  thir  later  works,  provided  they  have  peace  and  competence, 
will  often  surpass  and  seldom  full  below  those  of  their  early  years.  Michel 
Angclo  worked  until  he  was  ninety  ;  Titian  was  nearly  one  hundred  when  he 
died;  Rubens,  seventy;  Tintoretto,  eighty-two;  Claude,  eighty-two;  Teuiers, 
eighty-four.— Ed, 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


227 


bone,  and  muscle,  and  part  of  the  human  and  animal  frame, 
was  not  to  be  surpassed ;  who  had  proved  the  soundness  and 
purity  of  his  taste  in  art  by  his  defence  of  the  Elgin  Marbles 
against  the  laughter  and  abuse  of  the  critics  and  connoisseurs ; 
who  had  trained  and  educated  some  of  the  best  artists  in 
England ;  and,  not  to  mention  his  other  services  to  the  art  of 
the  country,  had  painted  as  fine  a  genuine  fresco  as  there  was 
to  be  seen  in  England.  Was  it  in  the  public  interest,  when 
a  great  work  of  fresco  decoration  was  about  to  be  painted  at 
the  public  cost,  that  such  a  master  of  his  art  should  be  passed 
over  by  the  authorities?  The  question  was  not  a  personal, 
but  a  public  question.  Haydon  was  the  only  painter  in 
England  who  had  thought  out  this  particular  subject  of  the 
decoration  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament.  He  was  the  only 
man,  I  believe,  in  the  country,  who  thoroughly  comprehended 
what  was  wanted  to  be  done,  and  how  to  do  it.  Imperious, 
and  impatient  of  ignorance  he  might  have  been,  but  he  was  a 
man  of  unmatched  industry  and  ability,  full  of  experience, 
and  in  the  prime  of  life.  That  he  was  an  "uncompromising" 
man,  and  an  "impracticable"  man,  and  a  man  "with  such 
extreme  opinions,  that  he  could  not  have  worked  with"  this 
man  and  that,  is  nothing  but  the  ordinary  excuses  of  mis- 
applied power,  and  a  failing  cause.  As  Dolabella  says  of 
Antony's  messenger,  so  it  may  be  said  of  Sir  Robert  Peel 
this  is 

"  An  argument  that  he  is  plucked  when  hither 
He  sends  so  poor  a  pinion  of  his  wing." 

Such  excuses  were  just  as  applicable  to  Haydon  as  they 
would  be  to  the  Leader  of  the  Opposition  in  Parliament,  if, 
when  the  people  preferred  him  to  office,  the  sovereign  and 
his  minister  kept  him  out.  Haydon  was  always  kept  in  op- 
position. He  never  was  tried  with  power.  It  is  in  opposi- 
tion a  man  most  shows  his  defects.  If  in  constant  and  irri- 
tating opposition,  he  is  certain— at  least  I  never  knew  the 
man  who  was  not— to  be  guilty  of  mistakes.  "  Where  there 
is  much  activity,"  Burke  says,  "  there  is  always  aberration." 
Put  to  insist  that  a  man  of  original  mind,  who  always  con- 
siders his  own  opinion  right,  is  therefore  unsuited  to  a  post 
where  he  is  liable  to  be  irritated  by  collision  with  others,  is 
absurd  and  illogical,  for  it  quite  overlooks  the  wide  separation 
between  always  thinking  you  are  right,  and  thinking  you  are 
always  right.    An  honest  man  must  always  think  his  opinions 

Q  2 


MEMOIR  OF 


right,  or  they  would  not  be  his.  But  it  does  not  follow  he  is 
not  open  to  conviction.  Moreover,  if  Haydon  had  shown 
defects,  he  had  also  shown  extraordinary  capacity  and  vigour; 
and  in  his  art  no  one  could  touch  him.  Put  such  a  man  in 
office,  and  he  will  prove  that  he  has  as  much  discretion  as 
your  most  cautious  mediocrities,  more  than  their  share  of 
common  sense,  and  infinitely  more  knowledge  of  his  own  par- 
ticular business. 

But  Sir  Bobert  Peel  carried  his  point,  plain  sense  was 
pushed  aside,  and  Haydon  was  excluded  from  all  employment 
in  the  decoration  of  the  new  Houses. 

And  now  comes  the  fair  question,  what  has  the  country 
gained  by  his  exclusion  ?  Have  we  anything  to  boast  of  as  the 
result  of  Sir  Bobert  Peel's  action  in  this  matter  ?  The  chief 
thing  the  public  has  gained  has  been  "  experience,"  and  very 
dearly  we  have  paid  for  it.  Alter  several  annual  official  reports 
from  the  Boyal  Commission  of  Fine  Arts,  the  public  learned 
in  the  eleventh  Beport  that  "  difficulties  had  arisen  ;"  the  plain 
fact  being,  as  I  have  often  heard  Haydon  predict,  the  frescoes 
were  already  showiug  signs  of  decay.  In  their  twelfth  Beport 
(February,  1861),  the  Boyal  Commissioners  express  their  "ex- 
treme mortification  "  at  the  "  failure  "  of  their  efforts  in  fresco, 
and  intimate  their  intention  "  to  attempt  water-glass  painting  " 
instead.  A  few  weeks  later,  on  the  11th  March,  1861,  the 
Boyal  Commissioners  threw  up  their  cards.  For  eighteen 
years  they  had  "  meddled  with  everything  and  muddled  all," 
and  now  they  begged  to  be  allowed  to  resign  their  functions. 
It  was  the  cheapest  thing  to  let  them  go,  and  Sir  Bobert  Peel's 
Commissioners  silently  effaced  themselves  from  public  view, 
the  only  official  act  of  their  existence  which  commanded  the 
unqualified  approbation  of  the  country.  They  returned  to 
their  respective  domestic  and  other  duties,  for  which,  let  us 
hope,  they  were  better  fitted  than  for  dealing  w  ith  matters  of 
art,  in  which  the  majority  had  shown  the  thorough  ignorance 
of  educated  men,  and  their  utter  insensibility  to  anything  like 
a  grand  idea.* 

With  regard  to  their  fresco  and  water-glass  decorations  of 
the  House,  1  hope  I  am  not  overstating  the  case  when  I  say  it 
is  admittedly  an  enormous  and  costly  failure.  And  this  is 
exactly  what  I  have,  in  1845,  heard  my  father  predict  it  would 

*  A  curious  anil  interostinft  history  of  this  unfortunate  Royal  Commission  is 
given  by  Mr.  Redgrave  in  his  '  British  Painters  '—Ed. 


B.  X.  HA  YDON. 


229 


be.  "  I  shall  not  be  alive  to  see  it,  but  you  may ;  and  mark 
my  words,  in  less  than  twenty  years  their  frescoes  will  begin  to 
decay.  In  fifty  years  there  will  be  nothing  of  them  left.  They 
talk  of  their  lasting.  Good  God!  what  credulity !  There  is 
not  one  of  them  who  knows  how  to  prepare  his  surface  to  last, 
and  except  Eastlake  and  Dyce,  there  is  not  a  soul  among  them 
who  can  paint  a  genuine  fresco."  Are  not  his  words  fulfilling 
themselves  ?  Yet  this  one  man,  who  knew  where  the  fault 
lay,  and  how  to  remedy  it,  was  designedly  excluded  by  Sir 
Robert  Peel  from  all  control  over,  or  share  in  the  work !  But 
if  he  was  not  permitted  to  be  the  steersman,  or  even  one 
of  the  crew,  Haydon  was  at  least  the  Orpheus  who  sailed 
with  those  Argonauts,  with  this  difference,  that  his  visions 
were  always  intelligible  to  himself. 

Then,  again,  as  to  the  general  principle  and  object  of  the  deco- 
ration as  it  stands.  It  is  impossible  to  discover  any  leading 
idea.  Except  to  dispose  of  the  sums  of  money  voted  by  Par- 
liament, there  is  no  principle  represented.  We  have  Moses, 
and  Bliicher,  and  Nelson,  and  Montrose  on  the  scaffold,  and 
Argyle  on  his  bed,  and  Alice  Lisle,  and  the  Pilgrim  Fathers, 
and  many  pretty  pictures  of  academic  figures  in  theatrical 
costume,  that  illustrate  no  principle,  are  guided  by  no  leading 
idea,  which  appeal  only  to  the  eye.  and  that  must  not  be  a 
critical  one.  Allowing  the  works  the  full  merit  their  friends 
claim,  there  is  throughout  a  marked  absence  of  all  genuine 
heroic  spirit  both  in  sentiment  and  execution.  No  impartial 
judge  can  deny  that.  When  a  recent  Quarterly  'Reviewer 
declared  the  whole  thing  a  gigantic  failure,  "a  monument  of 
our  inability  to  meet  what  ought  in  a  nation  possessed  of  our 
wealth,  and  means,  and  culture,  to  be  a  common  and  not  at  all 
an  extraordinary  occasion,"  he  gave  expression  to  a  truth  that 
is  impressed  upon  most  of  us. 

But  I  deny  that  it  was  the  fault  of  the  artists  so  much  as 
the  fault  of  the  Royal  Commissioners.  There  were,  then,  as 
there  are  now,  competent  painters  equal  to  great  public  works. 
But  such  men  have  no  chance  against  the  low  taste,  the  want 
of  culture,  and  the  ignorant  prejudices  in  art  of  our  nobility. 

If  Haydon's  restless  spirit  be  doomed,  as  a  pang  for  sins  not 
yet  atoned  for,  to  wander  round  the  corridors  of  the  palace  at 
Westminster,  it  must  suffer  a  melancholy  remorse  at  seeing  its 
living  predictions  coming  so  rapidly  to  their  crisis.  I  only 
hope  that,  compelled  to  wander  with  him,  is  the  spirit  of  Sir 


230 


MEMOIR  OF 


Robert  Peel.  But  I  must  hasten  to  bring  my  too  long  record 
of  Haydon's  career  to  its  close. 

When,  in  1844-5,  Haydon  became  satisfied  the  original  in- 
formation he  had  received  in  1842  was  correct,  and  under  no 
circumstances  would  Sir  Robert  Peel,  if  he  could  help  it,  allow 
him  to  be  employed  in  the  decoration  of  either  House,  he  showed 
no  resentment :  "I  am  totally  left  out,"  he  writes  in  his  journal 
(27th  June,  1815),  "after  forty-one  years  of  suffering  and  hard 
work,  with  my  '  Lazarus,'  and  '  Curtius,'  and '  Uriel,'  before  their 
eyes  ;  and  being,  too,  the  whole  and  sole  designer  for  the 
decoration  of  the  House  of  Lords  in  the  first  instance,  and  the 
cause  of  the  thing  being  done  at  all. 

"  Backed  by  encouragement,  I  have  never  known  how 
steadily  would  my  powers  develop!  I  shall  never  know  it. 
Had  I  been  employed,  the  sense  of  a  duty  to  be  done  would 
have  banked  up  my  mind,  and  kept  it  running  in  one  channel 
deep  and  constant ;  now  it  has  spread  out  into  a  thousand 
irritable  little  rivulets,  watering  the  ground  and  exhausting 
the  fountain  head." 

It  is  pitiable  to  read  these  words.  One  knows  how  it  must 
have  wrung  his  heart  to  write  them.  The  allusion  to  that 
utter  absence  of  real  encouragement  which  had  marked  his 
hard  life  is  touching  ;  while  the  reference  to  a  duty  to  be 
done  bears  out  what  I  have  said  of  the  probable  effect  upon 
him  of  office.  And  now  he  made  up  his  mind.  Humiliated 
and  wounded  to  the  core  at  the  contemptuous  manner 
in  which  he  had  been  pushed  aside  by  the  Royal  Commis- 
sioners, Haydon  determined  upon  a  step  that,  in  the  most 
favourable  times,  would  have  been  hazardous,  but  just  then 
was  almost  certain  ruin.  He  would  try  and  interest  the  public 
by  painting,  in  opposition,  and  exhibiting  his  six  original 
designs  for  the  decoration  of  the  Houses.  In  the  earlier 
period  of  his  then  unmarried  life,  three  great  pictures  had 
brought  him  to  the  ground.  Now  he  was  about  to  paint 
six,  and  the  circumstances  were  even  more  unfavourable ; 
for  the  nobility  were  not  only  against  him,  but  the  Court, 
which  was  formerly  indifferent,  was  now  hostile.  The  Aca- 
demy was  not  exactly  against  him,  but  it  would  not  support 
him,  and  a  "  public"  had  grown  up  since  1823  that  took  loss 
interest  in  "  Haydon  and  his  Historical  Painting  "  than  he  could 
be  brought  to  believe.  Then  he  had  no  capital,  and  had  to 
maintain  a  family,  as  well  as  himself  all  the  time,  by  painting 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


23' 


cabinet  pictures.  The  strain  was  too  great  even  for  him. 
But  it  is  with  such  men  as  with  great  kings,  their  griefs  are 
not  easily  allayed. 

"  The  forest  deer  being  struck 
Buns  to  the  herb  that  closes  up  the  wounds, 
But  when  the  Imperial  Lion's  flesh  is  gored, 
He  rends  and  tears  it  with  his  wrathful  paw: 
And  highly  scorning  that  the  lowly  earth 
Should  drink  his  blood,  mounts  upward  to  the  air." 

Had  he  possessed  capital,  which  would  have  given  him  time 
to  reflect  and  paint,  I  have  little  doubt,  in  spite  of  all 
that  the  learned  and  unlearned  critics  say,  he  would  have 
produced  a  series  of  six  works  unrivalled  in  English  art, 
and  worthy  of  his  high  repute.  That  was  the  opinion  of 
competent  judges.  But  he  had  lost  a  year,  and  he  had  no 
reserve  funds.  "  Darkness  before,  and  danger's  voice  behind," 
was  all  his  inheritance.  For  the  first  and  only  time  in  his 
life  he  appears  to  me  to  have  allowed  his  mortification  to  get 
the  better  of  his  good  judgment. 

He  began  the  first  of  his  series  of  six  pictures  in  April,  1845. 
The  '  Banishment  of  Aristides,'  a  fine  subject,  forcibly  painted, 
he  finished  in  four  months  ;  the  second,  '  Nero  watching  the 
Burning  of  Koine,'  hastily  conceived  and  painted,  he  finished 
in  two  months.  Yet  these  arduous  and  impassioned  labours 
could  not  recover  the  year  lost  in  indecision,  nor  remove  that 
disquiet  of  the  soul  which  precedes  misfortune.  He  reads,  he 
writes,  he  works  incessantly,  but  ever  and  anon  I  find  him  re- 
ferring directly  and  indirectly  to  Death  as  if  he  felt  its  awful 
shadow  near.  Dr.  Hook  sends  him  the  '  Confessions  of  St. 
Augustine.'  He  reads  them,  reviews  his  own  life,  and  writes : — 
"  The  first  step  towards  fitting  the  Soul  to  stand  before  its 
Maker  is  a  conviction  of  its  unworthiness."  Then  he  is  more 
constant  in  prayer — more  curious  in  his  utterances  and  quota- 
tions from  Scripture,  more  humble  towards  Him  "  in  whom 
there  is  no  variableness,  neither  shadow  of  turning." 

Suddenly  he  hears  the  sad  news  that  his  old  friend,  Colonel 
Gurwood,  has  destroyed  himself.  This  affects  him  profoundly. 
Now  he  refuses  to  record  his  prayers  any  more.  "  I  feel  them," 
he  says ;  "  but  it  is  too  familiar  to  write  them  down,  and  bring 
them  in  contact  with  daily  expression  of  worldly  matters."  It 
is  as  if  he  dared  not  utter  and  record  them,  lest  the  effort 
should  turn  him  from  the  fascination  of  some  shackled  pro- 
pensity, suddenly  broken  loose  and,  mastering  his  obedience. 


MEMOIR  OF 


Pie  flies  for  relief  to  a  fresh  subject,  1  Alfred  and  liis  First  Trial 
by  Jury.'  But  the  weight  of  Gurwood's  miserable  death  presses 
on  his  mind  and  heart.  In  February,  18-16,  he  leaves  London  in 
low  spirits  and  goes  to  Edinburgh.  Here  he  met  with  his  usual 
enthusiastic  reception.  His  lectures  were  crowded  to  excess, 
and  the  profuse  hospitality  of  the  famous  city  freely  extended 
to  him.  Donald  may  not  have  more  money  than  suffices  for 
his  own  modest  wants ;  but  he  appreciates  a  man  with  brains, 
is  a  staunch  friend,  and  is  always  glad  to  give  you  a  warm 
welcome  in  his  hospitable  home.  The  following  month  Haydon 
returned  to  London,  and  prepared  for  his  exhibition  in  April.* 

The  two  pictures,  '  Aristides '  and  '  Nero,'  were  exhibited  at 
the  Egyptian  Hall.  The  newspapers  spoke  highly  of  them  as 
works  of  art.  But  the  next  room  to  Haydon's  exhibition  was 
taken  by  the  dwarf  4  Tom  Thumb.'  The  London  world  rushed 
in  its  thousands  to  see  this  novelty — dukes,  duchesses,  earls, 
and  countesses  led  the  van,  and  all  the  "  Public  "  followed. 
When  they  came  out  from  the  Presence,  the  poor  people  were 
so  overcome  by  their  emotions  they  could  not  endure  the  shock, 
nor  afford  the  additional  expense,  of  looking  at  'Nero'  or 
'Aristides.'  They  passed  Haydon's  exhibition  room,  and  went 
off  to  Grange's  for  ice  and  wafers.  After  six  weeks  Haydon 
closed  his  exhibition  with  the  loss  of  111/.,  rolled  up  his  pic- 
tures, and  went  to  work  vigorously  at  the  next  of  his  series. 

I  do  not  think  the  failure  of  the  exhibition  disturbed  him 
much.  Like  Sir  Isaac  Newton  and  the  South  Sea  Bubble,  he 
"  could  not  calculate  on  the  madness  of  the  people."  Besides, 
ho  had  a  settled  object  in  view,  that  gave  him  no  time  for  vain 
regrets,  but  he  expressed  his  opinion  of  London  society — and 
for  that  portion  of  the  British  Public  which  had  followed  their 
caprice  on  this  occasion — in  terms  of  deep  disdain. 

To  his  own  mind,  unless  some  extraordinary  assistance  ar- 
rived, his  days  were  now  numbered.  But,  "  to-morrow  knaves 
will  thrive  through  craft  and  fools  through  fortune ;  and 
honesty  will  go  as  it  did,  frost-nipt  in  a  summer  suit."  1  >av  by 
day  passed,  and  no  inquiries,  no  commissions  came  in,  no  offers 
to  buy  either  of  the  four  large  pictures  he  had  now  upon  his 
hands.  He  began  to  lose  confidence  in  his  power  to  stave  off 
the  last  day  long  enough  to  enable  him  to  complete  his  series. 

*  It  is  only  fair  to  Sir  Robert  Peel  that  I  should  state,  in  November,  IS  15, 
he  hnd,  as  Prime  Minister,  and  upon  Haydon's  application,  appointed  one  of 
H  iydon's  two  sous,  a  Cambridge  niau,  to  a  clerkship  under  Government. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


233 


"  The  great  thing  will  be  to  get  them  clone,"  he  continually 
writes  in  his  journal.  And  he  struggled  bravely  on,  flying 
hither  and  thither  to  pacify  creditors,  raise  money,  gain  time — 
anything  for  peace  to  think  and  paint.  His  debts  were  not  large. 
The  price  of  a  small  yacht,  or  of  another  diamond  necklace, 
would  have  covered  them  all.  But  no  member  of  the  nobility 
came  near  him.  Prince  Albert  was  one  day  seen  to  ride  by 
and  to  look  up  at  the  house,  and  speak  to  his  equerry.  His 
Koyal  Highness  had  not  the  courage  to  come  in. 

With  the  month  of  June  came  no  improvement  of  prospects, 
no  diminution  of  pecuniary  pressure.  He  works  vigorously. 
He  prays  earnestly  to  be  carried  "through  the  evils  "  of  each 
day,  and  he  entreats  the  Almighty  to  preserve  his  "  mind,"  so 
as  to  enable  him  to  bear  up  against  "  all  obstructions."  But 
at  last  it  dawns  upon  his  too  sanguine  hopes  that  all  his 
labour  is  in  vain ;  the  taste  of  the  Nobility  for  art  is  no 
higher  than  it  was  fifty  years  before,  and  perhaps,  after  all, 
he  may  have  mistaken  the  'feeling'  of  the  'People.'  An 
old  friend,  whom  he  had  helped  in  early  life,  now  offers  to 
lend  him  1000/.    They  are  to  meet  and  dine  in  the  City. 

L          keeps  the  engagement,  but  after  dinner  breaks  the 

news  to  Haydon  that,  he  is  unable  to  advance  the  money. 
Haydon  drank  deeply  (hotel  wine  is  not  always  sound),  and 
the  next  day,  between  the  disappointment  and  the  dinner, 
he  was  "wrong"  in  his  "head."  The  weather  now  (11th 
June)  became  intensely  hot,  and  he  got  completely  out  of 
health.  All  the  week  he  was  in  this  state,  and  could  get  no 
rest  at  night,  but  he  refused  to  send  for  medical  advice,  and 
gradually  abandoned  work.  It  looks  as  if  he  felt  the  end  was 
near,  and  thought  it  time  to  fold  his  robe  about  him.  But 
now,  a  very  curious  thing  happened,  upon  which  a  vast  deal  of 
fine  writing  has,  in  my  humble  opinion,  been  needlessly  ex- 
pended. The  15th  June  had  been  a  day  of  great  anxiety  and 
no  relief.  On  the  lGth  June  Haydon  wrote  to  his  old  friend,  the 
Duke  of  Beaufort,  to  explain  his  situation  and  ask  assistance. 
The  letter  reached  the  duke  at  Badminton,  just  as  he  was  going 
out  to  enjoy  the  bright  day  by  shooting  rabbits.  The  duke  put 
the  letter  into  his  pocket  and  took  down  his  gun.  Haydon 
wrote  also  to  Lord  Brougham,  and,  oddly  enough,  to  the  Prime 
Minister,  Sir  Robert  Peel.  Now,  if  ever  there  was  a  time  for 
one  man  to  do  a  graceful  and  generous  act  towards  another  he 
had  helped  to  ruin,  this  was  the  moment.    Sir  Robert  Peel,  in 


234 


MEMOIR  OF  . 


the  midst  of  all  his  Corn  Law  debates,  replies  promptly,  though 
in  a  formal  letter,  enclosing  an  official  order  for  5.)/.  on  a  fund 
over  which,  as  Prime  Minister,  he  had  official  control. 

It  is  hardly  fair  to  look  your  gift  horse  too  curiously  over  ; 
but  it  is  to  be  remarked  that  only  to  send  50?.  to  an  artist, 
owing  3J0(7.,  and  on  the  brink  of  arrest  and  ruin,  was  the 
merest  illusion  in  the  world.  It  was  like  that  phantom 
Minerva  sends  to  Hector  to  tempt  him  to  his  fate  by  making 
him  believe  Deiphobus  is  at  hand.  Moreover,  Sir  Robert's 
"  contribution  for  your  necessities  "  did  not  come  out  of  Sir 
Robert's  private  purse.  It  was  "public  "  money.  Considering 
his  position  and  grove  responsibilities  at  that  moment,  his 
prompt  reply  compares  favourably  with  the  Duke  of  Beaufort's 
forgetfulness,  and  Lord  Brougham's  silence.  But  yet  there  is 
something  in  the  gift  unpleasing.  It  came  out  of  the  Con- 
solidated Fund,  to  which  Haydon,  who  for  years  had  been  paying 
his  taxes  regularly,  must  have  contributed  his  share.  Had 
Sir  Robert  Peel  made  up  the  price  he  paid  for  the  '  Napoleon' 
to  the  500  guineas,  which  he  ought  to  have  given  1  aydon  for  the 
picture,  such  a  sum  (389Z.)  would  have  been  a  real  benefit  to  the 
painter,  and  would  probably  have  saved  his  life.  And  it  would 
only  have  been  just  from  the  man  with  40,<)0i<Z.  a  year  towards 
the  poor  painter  who  had  painted  him  so  fine  a  picture,  had  got 
so  mean  a  price  for  it,  and  was  now  asking  for  "  help."  But  no, 
not  one  sixpence  from  his  own  private  purse  would  Sir  Hobert 
Peel  give.  That  would  look  like  concession.  How  singular  that 
this  man,  who  never  had  a  guiding  principle  in  politics,  who 
would  yield  everything  to  pressure,  but  resist  everything  till 
he  was  pressed,  should,  in  a  matter  of  this  kind,  draw  a  hard 
and  fast  line  against  the  evidence  of  facts  he  could  not  contro- 
vert, and  refuse  to  grant  to  feeling  what  his  stiff-necked  pride 
rejected.  It  was  not  magnanimous.  It  was  wanting  in  gene- 
rosity, cold  in  heart,  and  unworthy  of  a  man  in  Sir  Robert 
Peel's  position.  But  the  highest  virtue  of  which  the  Late  Sir 
Robert  Peel  was  capable,  and  the  last  he  arrived  at,  was 
justice  to  those  he  had  wronged. 

Haydon  acknowledged  the  receipt  of  the  50?.,  and  in  the 
warmth  of  his  own  good  heart  he  paid  a  compliment  to  that 
which  he  assumed  to  belong  to  Sir  Robert  Peel.  But  it  is  to 
be  observed,  he  put  the  money  aside  and  did  not  touch  it.  This 
is  significant.  The  18th,  19th,  and  2:ith  of  June  came,  passed, 
and  brought  no  answer  from  the  Duke  of  Beaufort  or  Lord 


B.  K.  HA  YD  ON. 


^35 


Brougham.  ITaydon  grew  gloomy,  and  became  dispirited  as 
a  jaded  horse.  What  he  suffered  during  these  days,  and  how 
acutely,  his  daily  journal  tells.  He  feels  his  "heart  sink";  his 
brain  "grows  confused";  he  lies  awake  at  night  in  'great  agony 
of  mind."  He  prays  God  to  bless  him  through  "  the  evils  "  of 
each  day.  He  takes  down  to  a  bookseller  a  parcel  of  books  he 
had  not  paid  for,  and  begs  him  to  "  take  care  of  them."  He 
takes  an  unfinished  sketch,  upon  which  he  was  engaged  for  Sir 
W.  then  Mr.  Fairbairn,*  and  had  been  part  paid  for,  and  carries  it 
to  the  house  of  a  relative  of  this  friend,  and  leaves  it  in  the  hall, 
with  a  hasty  message  for  its  care.  He  does  the  same  with  one 
or  two  other  small  works,  and  he  passes  one  entire  day  burning 
vast  quantities  of  correspondence  and  documents  in  the  court- 
yard of  his  house.  In  the  intervals  he  sits  in  his  painting- 
room  unable  to  work,  staring  at  his  picture  "  like  an  idiot,"  his 
brain  "pressed  down  by  anxiety,"  his  frenzied  eyelids  suing 
in  vain  for  rest.  Every  post  brings  him  angry  demands  for  the 
settlement  of  bills,  threats  of  execution,  and  immediate  pro- 
spect of  arrest,  imprisonment,  and  ruin.  One  by  one  his  last 
hopes  fall  from  him,  like  dead  leaves  fluttering  from  a  bough. 
Good  God  !  what  a  picture  it  is  !  To  think  of  this  man,  after 
forty  years  of  noble  work  to  refine  the  taste  and  enlighten  the 
understanding  of  the  nobility  and  people  of  wealthy  England 
so  as  to  make  art  in  its  higher  range  a  delightful  mode  of 
moral  elevation,  and  design  a  means  of  their  material  pro- 
sperity, sitting  beggared  by  want  of  employment,  silent  and 
abstracted,  with  all  the  disjointed  fragments  of  his  perishiug 
hopes  about  him,  in  a  chaos  of  unspeakable  thought,  his 
soul  "  melting  by  reason  of  his  trouble,"  his  brain  throbbing 
with  fire,  pondering  over  his  past  life,  and  confronting  his 
deep  love  for  his  art  with  his  broken  fortunes,  till  stung  by 
the  bitterness  of  the  contrast,  like  a  dying  gladiator,  he  deter- 
mines on  self-murder  lest  he  be  left  to  languish  in  his  agony. 
It  is  a  picture  of  human  suffering,  under  the  uttermost  burden 
of  wretchedness,  that  one  does  not  often  see  into  so  distinctly. 
Nor  was  it  wholly  creditable  to  the  country,  nor,  in  this  case, 
to  the  Prime  Minister  of  that  country  in  which  it  was  there 
to  be  seen.  On  the  morning  of  the  21st  June  he  enters  in 
his  journal : — 

"  Slept  horribly — prayed  in  sorrow — got  up  in  agitation." 

*  It  is  now  in  the  possession  of  T,adv  Fnh'b  iirn,  widow  of  the  1  ite  Sir  William 
Faiibairn.  Bart.,  F.R.S.   The  subjeut'is  'Christ  before  Pilate.'— Ed. 


236 


MEMOIR  OF 


This  loss  of  rest  at  night  was  the  worst  sign  about  him.  I 
have  heard  him  say  he  could  face  any  misfortune  if  he  got  his 
sleerj.  But  he  could  not  support  the  irritability  arising  from 
disturbed  rest.  The  action  of  his  brain  became  morbid  and 
unhealthy.  On  Sunday,  this  21st  June,  he  walked  out  with 
one  of  the  family  to  dine  with  his  friend,  Commissioner  Evans, 
at  Hampstead.  On  his  way  through  the  Regent's  Park  he 
complained  much  of  the  intense  heat,  and  said,  the  night 
before,  when  lying  awake,  he  had  understood  how  it  was  people 
committed  suicide ;  that  he  had  dwelt  with  pleasure  on  the 
idea  of  throwing  himself  off  the  Monument  and  dashing  his 
head  to  pieces.  He  was  begged  not  to  dwell  on  such  thoughts, 
and  after  a  time  he  grew  more  calm.  He  spoke  of  his 
embarrassments,  and  appeared  to  show  the  greatest  repugnance 
to  having  to  go  through  again  all  the  degradation  and  miseries  of 
imprisonment  and  ruin.  They  parted  at  the  Avenue  Road  bridge, 
and  on  parting  he  said,  "  Tell  your  mother  not  to  be  anxious 
about  me,"  and  went  on  his  way.*  About  5  p.m.  he  returned 
home.  He  said  he  was  not  in  sufficiently  good  spirits  to  stay 
at  Hampstead.  At  dinner  he  got  up  from  his  chair  and  turned 
a  glazed  picture  to  the  wall :  his  brain  could  not  bear  the  re- 
flected light.  He  looked  flushed  and  haggard,  and  passed  a 
silent  and  abstracted  evening.  That  night  he  was  heard  walking 
about  his  room  nearly  the  whole  night,  apparently  in  great 
agitation.  It  was  in  those  wakeful  hours  he  settled  his 
resolve.  He  was  dressed  and  out  of  his  room  early  the  next 
morning  (22nd  June),  and  walked  down,  before  breakfast,  to 
Riviere,  a  gunmaker  in  Oxford  Street,  near  Regent  Street. 
II ore  he  bought  one  of  a  pair  of  pistols.  He  came  home 
about  9  a.m.,  breakfasted  alone,  then  went  to  his  painting- 
room,  and,  probably,  wrote  the  letters  to  his  children,  his 
will,t  and  his  "  last  thoughts."  As  my  mother  and  sister 
passed  the  painting-room  door  on  their  way  to  their  rooms, 
about  KJ.oO  a.m.,  they  tried  the  door  —  it  was  locked  —  and 
he  called  out  very  fiercely,  "  Who's  there?"  A  few  minutes 
after,  as  if  regretting  the  tone  in  which  he  had  spoken,  he 
came  up  to  my  mother's  room,  kissed  her  affectionately,  and 

*  My  brother  was  so  struck  by  this  conversation  that,  on  his  return,  he  had  the 
intention  of  calling  upon  and  consulting  with  tin,'  farniiy  medical  man,  but  my 
mother,  to  whom  he  mentioned  his  fears,  laughed  at  the  'idea  of  my  father  com- 
mitting "suicide,"  and  begged  of  my  brother  to  dismiss  the  suspicion  from  his 
mind.    Her  treatment  of  his  fears  made  him  put  aside  his  intention.— Ed. 

t  Being  unwitnessed,  it  was  invalid. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


237 


lingered  about  the  room  as  if  he  had  something  to  say.  Cut 
he  said  little,  except  to  ask  her  to  call  that  day  on  an  old  friend 
(one  of  the  executors  he  had  just  named  in  his  will)  and, 
returned  to  his  painting-room,  deliberately  wrote  in  his 
journal — 

"  God  forgive  me. — Amen  !  " 

"  Stretch  me  no  longer  on  this  tongh  -world." — Lear. 
and  in  a  few  moments  had  destroyed  himself. 

My  poor  sister  shortly  afterwards,  returning  home  alone,  and 
thinking  to  comfort  and  console  her  father  in  his  anxieties, 
stole  gently  down  to  his  painting-room,  tried  the  door,  it 
opened,  and  she  looked  in.  What  she  saw  I  never  dared  to  speak 
to  her  about.  A  few  weeks  before  her  own  death,  in  the  dim  twi- 
light of  a  summer's  night,  she  told  me.  At  first,  in  the  subdued 
light  of  the  painting-room,  she  could  not  distinguish  clearly;  and 
the  awful  silence  of  the  room,  broken  only  by  the  loud  ticking  of 
his  watch,  chilled  her  heart.  It  was  as  if  some  sorrow  had  passed 
into  the  air,  and  oppressed  her.  She  looked  for  him,  but  he  was 
not  sitting  at  his  table,  though  his  watch  was  there,  and  his 
Journal  lay  open,  and  some  letters  and  a  church-service  she 
had  given  to  him.  Nor  was  he  in  the  further  corner  where  he 
commonly  stood  to  study  his  picture.  Another  glance,  and 
she  saw  him  lying  on  the  floor.  At  first  she  thought  he  had 
thrown  himself  on  the  floor  to  study  the  foreground  of  his 
picture :  she  called  gently  to  him,  but  he  did  not  answer.  She 
came  forward,  and  leaned  hesitatingly  over,  fearing  to  disturb 
him  too  abruptly,  and  softly  called  again.  Still  he  was  heed- 
less. She  looked  steadily  at  him ;  he  was  all  on  the  floor,  as 
if  huddled  together.  Then  a  horrible,  an  indescribable  dread 
seized  her — he  had  fallen  in  a  fit.  She  stepped  close  to  him, 
her  foot  slipped  as  she  stooped  quickly  and  touched  his  head, 
which  was  cold  as  ice.  She  looked,  and  his  ruddy  cheek  was 
white  and  waxen  as  if  with  the  pallor  of  death  ;  a  fixed  and 
glassy  light  was  in  his  eye,  and  he  lay  there  without  motion, 
pulse,  or  breath.  In  a  pool  of  what  she  first  thought  red 
paint  spilled  upon  the  floor  around  her,  she  saw  a  razor,  and 
close  to  it  a  pistol.  Then  the  awful  truth  flashed  upon  her  mind 
He  had  destroyed  himself,  and  she  was  standing  in  his  blood. 

Thus  died  Haydon,  by  his  own  hand,  in  his  sixty-first  year, 
in  full  vigour  of  life,  and  on  the  threshold  of  what  appeared  to 


238 


MEMOIR  OF 


be  a  hale  old  age.  It  was  a  sad  end  to  a  courageous  life  of 
galling  conditions :  a  poor  reward  for  forty-two  years  of  faith- 
ful and  struggling  service  to  the  public  under  mountains  of 
calumny,  contradiction,  and  neglect.  He  was  buried  in  Pad- 
dington  Churchyard,  next  to  Mrs.  Siddons,  and  in  the  midst  of 
his  children  who  were  so  dear  to  his  heart.  His  death  created 
a  profound  sensation ;  and  an  enormous  crowd  followed  him  to 
his  grave. 

Haydon  left  a  widow  and  three  children — all  that  survived 
out  of  his  family  of  eight.  Two  lovely  girls  and  three  boys  had 
sunk  under  the  distresses  of  their  home.  Indeed,  I  am  surprised 
any  of  us  survived.  But  a  few  years,  and  his  widow  was  laid 
by  his  side,  worn  prematurely  to  death  by  the  sorrows  and 
anxieties  of  her  life.  A  few  more  years,  and  his  only  surviving 
daughter — once  one  of  the  most  beautiful  girls  in  England — 
sunk  into  an  early  grave,  carrying  with  her  the  recollections  of 
that  terrible  day,  from  the  shock  of  which  she  never  recovered. 
And  this  is  Historical  Painting  in  England  ! 


Immediately  on  Haydon's  death  becoming  known,  the 
nobility  joined  in  a  public  meeting  of  condolence  to  the 
family,  and  subscribed  a  sum  of  money  for  the  benefit  of 
the  widow  and  daughter,  who  would  much  prefer  to  have 
refused  it,  but  Lord  Carlisle,  Talfourd,  and  other  old  friends 
insisted  that  the  grave  should  cover  all  resentment,  and  it  was 
invested  for  their  benefit. 

It  is,  however,  some  satisfaction  to  be  able  to  say  that,  how- 
ever grateful  I  shall  always  feel  towards  those  who  subscribed 
at  the  time,  I  have  been  relieved  of  the  necessity  of  returning 
the  money  to  their  families,  as  I  had  intended,  by  the  fact 
that,  shortly  after  it  came  into  my  possession  on  the  death  of 
my  sister,  it  unexpectedly  and  hopelessly  went  down  with  its 
bankers  into  the  deep  insolvent,  before  the  necessary  arrange- 
ments for  its  return  were  completed  by  my  solicitors. 

Nor  must  I,  in  fairness  to  Sir  Robert  Peel,  for  I  have  no 
wish  to  deprive  him  of  his  due,  neglect  to  state  that,  on  Hay- 
don's death  being  made  known  to  him,  he  instantly  sent  to 
Haydon's  widow  an  order  on  the  Treasury  for  200Z.,  also  public 
money,  he  removed  Haydon's  eldest  son  from  the  clerkship 
given  to  him  in  1845,  to  a  less  slenderly  paid  post  under  the 
Board  of  Customs,  and  to  the  public  subscription  Sir  Robert 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


239 


Peel  added  1007.  of  his  own.  But  this  was  a  mere  "  dipping  of 
his  napkin  in  dead  Caesar's  blood."  The  whole  sum  total  of  all 
he  ever  gave,  of  public  and  private  money,  including  his  first 
107.  for  the  taxes,  and  the  1367.  for  the  '  Napoleon,'  falls  short 
of  the  50  J  guineas  he  should  have  given  Haydon  in  the  first 
instance  for  that  picture.* 

As  Prime  Minister,  Sir  Eobert  Peel  was  then  called  upon  to 
advise  Her  Majesty  to  bestow  a  pension  on  the  widow  of  Haydon. 
The  scale  submitted  and  approved  was  not  profuse.  The  same 
spirit  of  guarded  bounty  prevailed  here,  and  2s.  9c?.  a  day  was 
considered,  in  the  words  of  the  Eoyal  Warrant,  to  meet  the 
case  of  "  Mrs.  Haydon's  distressed  circumstances,  and  the  merits 
as  an  artist  of  her  late  husband.'  f 

Haydon's  debts  amounted  to  about  30007.  His  estimated 
assets  were  about  20007.  His  will  is  a  simple  document, 
expressed  with  brevity  and  pathos.  He  declares  himself 
clear  in  his  intellect  and  decided  in  his  resolution  of  purpose. 
He  acknowledges  his  debts  with  an  uneasy  apprehension  that 
he  was  morally  wrong  in  incurring  th?m,  but,  "considering  the 
precarious  nature  of  the  profession,  pardon  may  be  granted." 

*  Lady  Peel  was  so  ashamed  of  the  whole  transaction  that  she  wrote  a  most 
amiable  "letter  to  my  mother,  and  begged  to  be  allowed  to  add  another  official 
pension  of  251.  a  year,  all  she  had  power  to  confer.  When  Mrs.  Haydon  died, 
in  1 854,  Lord  Aberdeen  refused  to  continue  this  pension  to  Haydon's  daughter. 
—Ed. 

t  The  Warrant  is  "given  at  our  Court  at  Buckingham  Pab.ce,  1th  July,  184C," 
and  is  signed  H.  Gouiburn,  H.  Baring,  and  countersigned  "  R.  Peel."  This  grant 
of  the  half  of  a  two-and-ninepenny  pension  per  diem  to  Haydon  s  widow  as  the 
official  recognition,  after  forty-two  years'  silence,  of  Haydon's  public  services, 
when  compared  with  the  grants  of  money  and  honours  made  within  that  p  riod 
to  our  naval  and  military  officers,  and  to  Court  servants  during  their  lifetime, 
and  then  to  their  widows,  and  only  for  doing  the  duty  they  were  appointed  to 
perform  and  paid  for  performing  at  tlie  time,  raises  a  qu.  stion  which  I  venture  to 
think  is  not  sufficiently  considered,  viz.,  ought  not  the  man  who  does  something 
for  the  public  beyond  his  duty,  something  for  which  he  is  not  hired  and  paid,  and 
could  not  be  made  liable  to  punishment  for  not  doing,  to  have  the  priority  of 
pul'lic  reward?  It  seems  a  fair  question  whi  ther  any  man  in  the  service  of  the 
Crown  has  the  right  to  consider  himself  entitled  to  honours  and  reward  for  doing 
his  duty.  For  what  is  a  duty  but  an  obligation  you  have  undertaken  and  are 
bound  to  discharge?  But  here  is  a  man  like  Haydon  (and  there  are  probably 
more  like  him  at  this  moment  in  science  and  literature),  without  pay  or  reward, 
devoting  all  his  time,  his  talents,  his  private  means,  and  all  the  energies  of  his 
active  and  industrious  mind,  and  sacrificing  the  interests  of  his  family,  to  effect 
certain  great  public  benefits,  when  he  is  under  110  obligation  to  do  anything  of 
the  kind,  and  cannot  be  punished  if  he  refuse.  Provided  the  result  he  aims  at 
be  a  publ  c  benefit,  and  proves  to  be  one,  has  he  not  the  first  claim  to  honour  and 
reward  during  his  lifetime,  to  say  nothing  of  something  more  liberal  to  his 
widow,  if  she  needs  it,  than  a  mere  labourer's  daily  wage  ?  Surely  Haydon's 
case,  and  it  is  not  the  only  one,  shows  an  inequality  here  that  ought  to  be 
levelled,  and  occasionally  one  so  gross— instances  are  familiar  to  all  of  us — that 
Parliament,  which  has  tlie  power,  should  insist  upon  the  levelling.— Ed. 


MEMOIR  OF 


He  asks  forgiveness  of  his  creditors.  He  declares  he  meant 
all  in  honour*  He  names  the  Duke  of  Sutherland,  Talfourd, 
and  others,  as  his  best  friends.  He  calls  Sir  Robert  Peel 
his  "dear  friend."  If  it  were  not  that  he  desired  to  die  in 
charity  with  all  men,  and,  that  this  was  written  in  such  an 
awful  moment,  I  should  set  it  down  as  the  only  bit  of  insincerity 
in  the  will,  for  he  well  knew  that  Sir  Robert  Peel  was  not  his 
"  dear  friend,"  but  had  helped  to  ruin  him,  and  that  the  hor- 
rible act  he  was  about  to  commit,  he  had  been  greatly  driven  to 
by  the  unceasing  and  deliberate  pressure  of  the  Prime  Minister. 
Finally  he  begs  his  wife  and  children  to  forgive  him,  "  for  this 
additional  pang  will  be  the  last,  and  relieved  from  the  burden 
of  my  ambition,  they  will  be  happier  and  suffer  less." 

The  will  is  written  in  a  firm,  bold  hand  throughout.  He 
wrote  letters  to  his  children,  and  among  others,  one  to  Sir 
Robert  Peel,  the  contents  of  which  have  never  transpired. 

With  regard  to  the  amount  of  patronage  and  support  which 
Haydon  received  from  the  nobility,  although  he  had  many 
kind  friends  among  them,  such  as  the  late  Lord  Westmoreland 
and  the  late  Lord  Ellesmere,  and  others,  I  find  upon  careful 
calculation  that  he  got  nothing  like  the  sums  commonly 
supposed.  In  the  forty-two  years  of  his  professional  life, 
Haydon  was  paid  and  presented  by  the  nobility,  with  a  sum 
of  money  not  exceeding  in  all  2701'?.,  the  greater  proportion 
of  which  was  paid  over  to  him  by  the  Dukes  of  Bedford  and 
Sutherland. 

From  our  Royal  Family  Haydon,  in  that  time,  received  one 
commission  of  500  gs.  from  King  George  IV.,  and  one  subscrip- 
tion of  10  gs.  from  King  William  IV.  If  the  weight  of  gold 
kings  bestow  on  the  professors  of  art,  literature,  or  science, 
is  any  proof  of  their  esteem,  Haydon  must  have  stood  low.  Her 
present  Majesty  did  not  honour  Haydon  with  her  royal  pa- 
tronage or  support ;  on  the  contrary,  Her  Majesty  refused  to 
appoint  him  her  Historical  Painter.  His  late  Royal  Highness 
the  Prince  Consort  also  declined  to  employ  Haydon  when 
solicited  to  do  so  by  one  of  his  friends;  and  when  Haydon,  in 
1814,  requested  His  Royal  Highness's  acceptance  of  his  '  Essay 
on  Fresco  Painting,'  His  Royal  Highness  desired  the  Essay  to 
be  returned.  "  Les  rois  ont  plus  de  cceur  que  nous,  lis  oublient 
plus  tot  les  services  que  les  offenses." 

Thus,  if  we  put  together  the  patronage  of  the  Sovereign 

*  I  have  heard  one  of  his  largest  creditors  express  his  firm  belief  in  this. — En, 


B.  R.  II A  YD  ON. 


241 


and  of  the  Government,  and  the  patronage  and  gifts  of  the 
nobility,  we  shall  find  it  does  not  average  more  than  81)7.  a 
year.  This  is  not  extravagant  support  for  a  rich  country 
like  England.  It  would  hardly  pay  for  the  models  and  canva3 
of  a  dealer's  hack.  Nor  is  there  one  instance  in  the  forty-two 
years  of  Haydon's  life  of  any  single  member  of  the  nobility  or 
Royal  Family  employing  him  as  their  Art  Instructor,  or  having 
sent  pupils,  or  taking  the  slightest  interest  in  his  School. 
How  then  did  Haydon  contrive  to  live?  He  maintained  him- 
self mainly  by  the  support  the  public  gave  to  his  Exhibitions, 
by  the  help  of  his  personal  friends,  Dawson  Turner  and  Joseph 
Strutt,  for  example,  largely  and  generously  accorded,  by  the 
patronage  of  the  untitled  classes,  by  his  pupils,  and  latterly, 
to  a  small  extent,  by  his  lectures.  But  he  was  made,  if 
ever  a  man  was,  for  great  public  works,  and  that  was  denied 
him  by  the  governing  classes.  One  hour  of  Lorenzo  the  Mag- 
nificent would  have  changed  his  fate  and  fortunes.  But  Sove- 
reigns with  a  ta>te  for  Dutch  and  German  art,  Parliaments  that 
knew  nothing  of  the  functions  of  Art,  and  Prime  Ministers  who 
thought  drawing  of  no  use,  or  did  not  recognise  the  beauties  or 
value  of  the  Elgin  Marbles,  have  no  sympathy  with  men  like 
Haydon.  They  do  not  understand  them.  They  are  an  enigma. 
The  Minister  would  in'initely  prefer  they  should  take  a  com- 
mercial view  of  their  art,  paint  only  what  pays  best,  and,  to 
use  the  words  of  a  recent  critic  on  Haydon,  "  male  themselves 
comfortable  on  the  ordinary  level"  and  paint  "neat  little  historical 
pictures  such  as  the  British  millionaire  can  appreciate,"  *  rather 
than  they  should  seek  to  raise  the  taste  of  the  nation  by 
striving  to  restore  a  lost  excellence,  or  to  simplify  principles 
for  the  instruction  of  the  people. 

Haydon  left  behind  him  not  more  than  250  paintings  of 
all  sizes,  including  oil  sketches.  His  art  pupils  all  proved 
capable  men,  and  some  won  the  highest  distinction.  As  to 
the  real  position  of  Haydon  in  his  Art,  that  is  a  subject  of 
so  controversial  a  nature,  and  in  the  present  passion  for 
"  polish  "  and  "  detail,"  one  which  may  be  expected  to  excite 
so  much  testiness  and  opposition,  it  is  hardly  possible  it 
should  receive  fair  consideration.  It  is  rarely  a  controversial 
man  like  Haydon  is  judged,  in  his  own  century,  with  that 
broad  and  impartial  spirit  to  which  his  original  Jorce  of  mind 

*  'Blackwood,'  June,  187o.-Ed. 
VOL.  I.  K 


242 


MEMOIR  OF 


and  inventive  power  lias  fair  claim.  A  man  who  does  what 
his  fiery  intellect  prompts,  and  not  what  the  world  expects, 
never  meets  with  fair  play  in  his  own  century.  Certainly,  to 
be  "  scrawled  and  blotted  by  every  goose's  quill,"  is  peculiarly 
Haydon's  misfortune.  So  far  as  I  can  see,  Haydon's  critics 
appear  to  think  only  of  detecting  and  exposing  his  defects, 
and  of  judging  him  either  by  what  he  does  not  do,  or  by 
the  worst  of  what  he  does.  This  is  glib,  but  hardly  sound. 
It  is  on  a  par  with  that  king  of  France,  who  condemned 
his  whole  supper  for  the  sin  of  a  "  ragout."  You  might  as 
well  judge  Raphael  by  his  trees,  Newton  by  his  Chronology,  or 
Sir  Walter  Scott  by  his  Life  of  Napoleon.  Even  Mr.  Watts, 
of  whom  Haydon  bad  the  h'gbest  hopes,  in  his  critical  examina- 
tion of  Haydon's  works,  devotes  all  the  powers  of  his  mind  in 
this  spirit.  But  the  result  is  not  the  product  of  a  workman. 
Mr.  Watts  begins  at  the  wrong  end.  He  devotes  three  pages 
to  point'ng  out  assumed  blemishes,  three  lines  to  admitting 
but  not  pointing  out  the  greater  beauties,  and  then  ends  by 
impugning  Haydon's  motives,  and  damns  him  altogether.  This 
is  neither  generous  nor  just.  And  there  is  always  something 
suspicious  in  the  "  imputation  "  of  motive.  The  question  is, 
in  the  works  of  which  painter  are  no  imperfections  to  be 
found?  Is  it  in  Titian,  in  Carlo  Dolci,  in  Raphael,  in  Michel 
Angelo,  Rubens,  Guido,  the  Caracci,  Velasquez,  Murdlo,  Cor- 
reggio,  or  Reynolds,  with  his  bad  drawing?  Why,  all  tho 
painted  works  that  ever  were  are  more  or  less  imperfect. 
There  is  only  a  portion  of  excellence  in  the  finest  of  them, 
end  that  is  what  we  have  to  search  out  and  study.  Having 
once  traced  that,  we  may  look  for  defects  if  we  please.  That 
is  the  lowest  step,  not  the  first  in  criticism.  That  Haydon, 
in  common  with  the  rest,  exhibits  defects,  I  do  not  presume  to 
deny.  Defects  cf  taste  and  refinement,  wanting  at  times  in 
natural  grace,  and  with  disproportion,  in  a  greater  degree  than, 
apparently,  ought  to  be  found.*  But  consider  first  the  circum- 
stances under  which  he  painted  ;  and  with  a  painter,  you  must 
consider  the  circumstances,  the  harass  of  his  mind,  the  pressure 
from  pecuniary  anxieties,  the  base,  the  abject  want  of  some 
periods,  the  bitter  sorrow  of  others,  the  cruel  pain  of  nearly 
all,  and  the  cramped  space  in  which  he  was  compelled  by  the 
nobility  to  live  and  paint.    Consider  all  this,  and  instead  of 

*  In  his  Painting-room,  in  Burwood  Place,  he  was  so  cramped  it  was  impossible 
to  judge  distant  etiects  correctly. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


243 


blaming  him  for  not  leaving  his  works  pe  rfect,  wonder  with 
me  there  are  so  few  defects.  For  is  it  not  a  truth  that,  to 
get  his  best  work  from  the  artist,  you  must  ensure  his  creative 
power  freedom  from  disturbances? 

Throughout  his  whole  career,  I  only  know  one  period  when 
Haydon's  mind  was  comparatively  unharassed,  when  he  worked 
freely  as  to  space  and  with  a  certain  sense  of  relief  fiom 
pecuniary  pressure,  though  then  afflicted  by  ill-health  and 
interrupted  by  other  disturbing  causes,  and  that  was  between 
1815  and  1820,  when  painting  the  '  Jerusalem.'  The:  e,  indeed, 
we  may  see  his  art  fairly.  Bewick  saw  that  picture  painted, 
and  he  has  left  it  on  record,  that  there  is  "  not  an  eye,  nor  an 
ear,  nor  a  nostril,  nor  even  a  finger-nail  that  is  not  a  perfect 
study."  Competent  judges,  yet  living,  who  remember  the 
picture,  speak  of  it  with  enthusiasm  as  "  a  most  glorious  work." 
All  the  testimony  on  the  point  tells  us  not  only  how  honest  a 
painter  Haydon  was  by  inclination  and  habit,  but  how  reflective 
was  the  art  of  his  execution.  Nothing  laboured,  but  nothing 
hasty  or  slurred,  when  he  had  time  at  his  command,  and  no 
family  to  maintain.  And  even  when  he  had  not  this  time, 
and  was  weighted  with  encumbrances,  in  the  works  of  which 
modern  historical  painter  shall  we  find  nobler  contrasts  to  his 
utmost  imperfections  ? 

Haydon's  art  is  a  learned  and  thoughtful  art  of  Form, 
Expression,  and  Colour ;  and  by  expression  I  mean  not  only  the 
aspect  of  the  face,  but  the  action  of  the  figure.  In  breadth, 
size,  drawing,  and  power,  he  has  no  equal  in  the  schools  of 
Europe.  Where  is  the  modern  painter  who  has  approached 
him  in  knowledge  and  correct  drawing  of  the  human  figure  ? 
I  assert,  without  fear  of  being  refuted,  that  his  elbows,  arms, 
hands,  knees  and  feet,  are  beyond  anything  in  modern  art,  and 
put  all  his  contemporaries,  and  most  of  his  successors,  to  shame. 
Who  has  surpassed  him  in  power  of  composition,  in  sublimity 
of  expression,  in  beauty  of  form,  in  richness  and  purity  of  tone 
and  colour  ?  Then  where  are  we  to  find  a  man  so  varied  and 
so  versatile — who  has  given  us  so  grand  a  representation  of 
*  i  he  Judgment  of  Solomon,'  in  Hazlitt's  opinion,  "  the  very 
finest  work  of  that  high  class  since  the  days  of  Titian ;"  or, 
"  so  glorious  and  so  complete  "  a  painting  of  the  '  Entry  into 
Jerusalem,'  a  work  that,  in  the  opinion  of  the  most  competent 
judges  of  that  day,  stamped  Haydon  as  the  "greatest  historical 
painter  England  had  ever  produced."    Who  has  ever  con- 

R  2 


244 


MEMOIR  OF 


eeived  and  painted  so  sublime  a  head  of 'Lazarus  risen  from 
his  Grave,'  so  poetical  a  'Napoleon,'  so  exquisite  and  pathetic 
a 'Penitent  Girl'?  Yet  who  has  given  us  a  more  genuine 
bit  of  coarse  humour  and  character  than  *  John  Bull  at 
Breakfast,'  and  4  Falstaff '  in  his  '  pride  of  grease;'  or  of  pathos 
and  humour  such  as  we  see  in  his  'Mock  Election,'  and 
its  companion  picture?  Hogarth  could  not  have  equalled 
Hay  don  in  these  on  the  scale  they  are  painted.  Yet  again, 
the  same  right  hand  gave  us  the  youthful  grace  and  fire  of 
'  Alexander  and  Bucephalus,'  the  beauty  and  character  of  the 
'  May  Day,'  the  dignity  of  '  Uriel,'  the  vindictive  envy  of 
'Satan'  as  he  swoops  down  on  Paradise,  the  failing  limbs  and 
death-stricken  face  of  '  Eucles,'  the  marvellous  horse  of 
'Curtius,'  and  the  desperation  of  'Dentatus'!  These  are  his 
minor  works.  But,  in  Italy,  each  of  these  would  have  made 
the  reputation  of  a  man.  In  England,  Haydon  could  sell 
only  three,  and  was  never  asked  to  paint  a  fourth. 

To  my  mind,  Haydon's  strength,  and  indeed  his  distinguishing 
excellence,  lies  in  the  grandeur  and  sublimity  of  his  thoughts, 
as  much  as  in  the  spirit  of  his  execution,  and  in  his  power  of 
drawing,  expression,  and  humour. 

When  Haydon  had  to  deal  with  poetical  conception  of  cha- 
racter, with  subjects  depending  on  the  momentary  expression 
of  passion,  or  of  awe,  when  he  had  to  paint  the  soul  of  a  man, 
which  can  only  be  seized  and  developed  in  the  imagination, 
I  believe  he  will  be  found  to  rank  with  the  greatest  painters. 
I  do  not  believe  it  to  be  possible  for  the  imagination  of  man 
to  conceive  anything  surpassing  the  expression  of  'Lazarus.' 
And  Time  will  confirm  this,  and  confirm  also  what  is  already 
beginning  to  dawn  upon  the  minds  of  the  most  thoughtful  of 
his  critics,  viz. :  his  extraordinary  power  of  humour,  the  humour 
of  the  greatest  creators,  the  humour  touched  with  pathos. 
What,  then,  is  the  real  complaint  against  him  ?  It  is  "  want 
of  finish  ;  "  he  is  rough,  he  is  not  "  polished."  In  other  words, 
Haydon  stamps  his  own  character  too  prominently  upon  his 
Art.  That  is  true  ;  but  it  is  there,  and  will  remain  there, 
and  we  must  make  the  best  of  it.  His  works  are  the  residt 
of  thoughts  rapidly  expressed,  nothing  laboured,  rapid  but 
full  of  thought.  In  a  letter  to  the  late  Mr.  Dilke  (184!) 
Haydon  writes,  "Nowhere  is  the  principle  of  relative  and 
essential  form  so  out  of  place  as  in  an  English  exhibition. 
The  taste  is  altering  —  detail,  copper  finish,  and  polished 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


varnish  are  required  instead  of  breadth,  size,  drawing,  power." 
Nothing  can  more  completely  express  the  difference  between 
Haydon  and  his  modern  critics.  They  want  the  fly  on  the 
priest's  nose,  which  Thackeray  surveyed  at  the  ceremony  over 
the  entombment  of  the  First  Napoleon.  Critics  like  Thackeray 
see  only  the  fly ;  men  like  Haydon  see  something  more ;  and 
although  Haydon  would  not  omit  the  fly  if  it  was  there,  he 
would  not  imitate  it  into  prominence.  For  he  always  refused 
to  mingle  the  principles  of  sculpture  with  those  of  painting. 
"When  he  had  fully  conveyed  his  intention,  that  is  when  he  had 
given  an  exact  representation  at  the  one  moment  a  painter 
has,  he  held  his  picture  to  be  finished.  But  he  modified  or 
increased  the  amount  of  finish  according  to  the  scale  of  his 
painting.  Proper  finishing  in  Haydon's  opinion  was  seizing 
the  leading  points  of  things  with  truth  and  correctness,  so  that 
they  predominate  over  the  subordinate  parts,  although  these 
are  not  to  be  neglected.  In  other  words,  >  ou  are  to  define 
things  so  as  to  make  them  intelligible  at  the  proper  distance. 
Hence  this  appearance  of  a  rough  surface  is  due,  in.  Haydon,  to 
intentional  handling,  not  to  slovenly  practice,  or  want  of  skill 
to  execute.  High  polish  and  equal  elaboration  of  all  detail 
are  not  a  true  representation.  Eaphael's  principle  is  the 
principle  which  guided  Haydon  and  Gainsborough,  another 
non-polisher,  viz.  that  the  inferior  parts  only  are  to  be  touched, 
leaving  the  atmosphere  to  complete  the  effect.  No  man  knew 
better  than  Haydon  when  to  leave  off;  witness  his  head  of 
Lazarus.  I  venture  to  assert  that  it  is  not  minute  finish, 
but  gradations  of  tone  that  constitute  the  true  refinement  of 
painting. 

That  his  trees  and  skies  are  punted  without  "finish"  is, 
I  admit,  perfectly  true.  I  will  even  go  further,  and  say  that 
he  is  apparently  careless  on  these  external  matttrs  of  detail, 
but  it  is  the  carelessness  of  internal  and  conscious  power.  He 
no  more  worked  up  minor  points  than  Raphael  his  trees  and 
skies,  and  even  horses.  "  A  button,"  as  Haydon  says  in  one  of  his 
letters  to  Easilake  (22  March,  1818),  "is  more  easily  finished 
than  a  face.  If  the  button  be  h'ghly  wrought,  it  will  be  sure 
to  attract  more  than  the  face ;  but  a  great  mind  will  sacrifice 
the  button  to  the  face."    Here  is  the  true  philosophy  of  art. 

I  recollect  once  watching  him  paint  the  eye  of  a  horse, 
and  how  with  a  few  masterly  touches  he  gave  the  exact  form 
of  the  brow,  the  lid,  and  the  pupil,  and  just  in  so  many  touches 


246 


MEMOIR  OF 


as  were  requisite  to  represent  them,  and  no  more.  To  me, 
standing  close  by  his  side,  it  looked  like  so  many  dabs  of 
colour,  and  I  laughed.  "Come  here,"  he  said,  "and  look."  I 
fell  back  to  the  proper  distance,  and  I  saw  sharpness,  softness, 
form,  and  all  the  characteristics  of  nature  hit  off  exactly  as  it 
appeared  in  the  horse  at  my  side.  Haydon  had  touched  with 
unerring  certainty  the  leading  points,  leaving  the  atmosphere 
to  complete  the  rest.  Here  was  real  art  based  on  sound 
knowledge. 

No  doubt  in  so  bold  a  style  as  Hayd  n  preferred  the  delicate 
excellencies  of  elaborate  pi  disk  may  be  missed,  but  that  does 
not  deprive  him  of  credit,  for  execution.  The  same  complaint 
was  made  against  Gainsborough.  "  But,"  says  his  great  rival 
!Sir  Joshua  Keynolds,  " all  those  odd  sc  atches  and  marks  so 
observable  in  Gainsborough's  pictures,  this  chaos,  this  uncouth 
shapeless  appearance,  by  a  kind  of  magic  at  a  certain  dis- 
tance assume  form,  and  all  the  parts  seem  to  drop  into  their 
proper  places,  so  that  we  can  hardly  refuse  acknow  ledging  the 
full  effect  of  diligence  under  the  appearance  of  chance  and 
hasty  negligence."    The  same  may  certainly  be  said  of  Haydon. 

Another  fault  found  with  him  is  an  extravagant  display  of 
muscular  action.  But  to  paint  the  naked  in  action  requires 
knowledge,  and  if  the  subjects  painted  admit  of  the  disp'ay, 
where  is  the  objection  ?  It  would  have  been  easier  for  Haydon 
to  cover  his  figures  with  drapery,  but  he  preferred  for  the 
interests  of  art  to  show  how  limbs  and  hands  and  feet  should 
be  painted.  "  On  ne  voyagerait  pas  sur  la  nier  pour  ne  jamais 
en  rien  dire."  Besides,  I  doubt  if  Haydon's  display  of  his 
anatomical  knowledge  is  extravagant.  It  may  look  unusual, 
but  careful  study  will  show  that  it  is  not  extravagant.  It 
certainly  never  approaches  the  violent  distortions  of  Michel 
Angelo.  He  combines,  as  Eastlake  says,  "  the  bursting-strength 
of  Michel  Angelo  with  the  nimble  elegance"  of  the  Greek 
statues,  and  never  fails  in  harmony  of  action  between  limbs 
and  muscles.' 

Finally,  with  his  faults,  real  and  alleged,  of  three  things  I 
feel  satisfied :  first,  that  Haydon  always  approached  his  work 
with  reverence,  and  parted  from  it  with  regret.  Secondly, 
that  what  he  endeavoured  to  do  was  to  be  true  to  the  con- 
ditions of  his  subject,  and  produce  a  work  of  art  that  should 
appeal  to  our  higher  feelings  and  sympathies,  not  a  mere 
imitation  of  nature.    And  thirdly  that,  no  one  knew  better 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


247 


than  himself  what  is  perfection  in  art,  nor  how  far  short  lie 
Ciime  of  that  ideal  excellence  he  aimed  at,  though  his  sense  of 
incompleteness  is  not  generally  that  of  his  critics.  It  is  true 
that  his  happiness  was  in  the  applause  of  the  world,  but  it  was 
not  in  his  own  self-approbation,  for  he  rarely  had  it.  Only 
when  others  censured  he  could  compare  himself  with  them, 
and  although  he  well  knew  how  imperfect  he  was  in  com- 
parison with  excellence,  he  knew  quite  as  well  how  inferior  his 
critics  were  in  comparison  with  him. 

At  the  same  time  I  must  admit  that  some  persons  of  feeling 
and  judgment  do  complain  of  Haydon's  Scriptural  works,  of 
his  earlier  career,  very  much  resembling,  to  them,  the  'Lara,' 
'  Childe  Harold,'  and  romantic  poems  of  Byron's  earlier  days, 
in  being,  as  it  were,  rather  academic  exercises  of  power  and 
skill  than,  the  genuine  product  of  the  whole  nature  of  the  man. 
And  that,  although  both  Haydon's  Scriptural  pictures  and 
Byron's  romantic  poems  are  full  of  "  fiue  bits,"  and  have  here 
and  there  splendid  "  flashes  of  genius,"  they  are  on  the  Whole 
failures,  because  done  with  a  purpose,  and  to  a  certain  extent 
"  in  masquerade."  But  the  error  of  this  view  is  surely  in  con- 
founding the  conception  of  the  work  with  its  representation  in 
detail,  at  least,  with  the  painter.  A  poet  cannot  always  con- 
ceive a  situation  which  he  has  not  experienced ;  Byron,  I 
believe,  was  one  of  these.  But  I  do  not  think  this  can  be  said 
of  a  painter  gifted  with  invention,  and  least  of  all,  of  Haydon. 
He  may  not  have  succeeded  in  transferring  to  his  canvas  this 
conceptions  of  his  mind  so  successfully  as  to  excite  at  once 
in  others,  of  less  vivid  imagination,  a  similar  mental  and 
emotional  state  to  that  which  had  produced  the  picture.  But 
that  does  not  lay  him  open  to  the  charge  of  not  giving  us  the 
"  genuine  product "  of  his  mind,  so  far  as  it  was  developed  at 
that  period.  The  humour  that  was  in  Haydon  was  certainly 
not  awakened  until  a  later  period.  That  was  suddenly  uncoiled 
by  what  passed  before  his  eyes  when  in  prison  in  1827.  The 
list  of  thirty-eight  historical  subjects  Haydon  made  out  for 
himself,  when  only  nineteen  years  of  age,  shows  the  bent  of 
his  mind  previous  to  1827  ;  and  although  I  have  no  wish  to  be 
partial,  I  do  believe  Haydon,  between  1805  and  1827*  to  have 
been  moved,  first,  by  powerful  devotional  fervour,  by  a  pas- 
sionate desire  to  illustrate  the  life  of  Christ,  and,  secondly, 
by  a  genuine  public  ardour,  with  less  thought  of  proving  how 
well  he  could  paint,  without  going  to  Italy,  than  to  make 


243 


MEMOIR  OF 


others  feel  what  he  felt,  and  what  he  wished  done  for  the 
moral  improvement  as  much  as  for  the  splendour  and  profit  of 
England.  And  in  this  I  am  confirmed  by  Eastlake,  Seymour 
Kirkup,  Wordsworth,  and  other  competent  judges. 

For  my  own  part,  I  feel  satisfied,  from  the  terms  in  which  I 
have  heard  him  spoken  of  in  Paris,  in  Madrid,  and  by  the 
Germans,  that  Hay  don's  reputation  as  a  painter  will  last  as 
long  as  there  is  an  artist  in  Europe ;  that  his  reputation  as  a 
writer  and  lecturer  on  art  is  unrivalled ;  and  that  before 
another  century  has  come  and  gone,  his  pictures,  in  England 
will  be  thought  out  in  their  own  language,  and  he  will  take 
that  rank  in  English  art  which  may  be  denied  him  now,  but 
to  which  he  must  most  unquestionably  succeed. 

Let  us  now,  in  conclusion,  look  fairly  at  the  prospect  his 
life  presents.  Grant  all  the  errors  and  imperfections  attributed 
to  him — his  want  of  tact  and  dignity — his  intense  self-will — his 
hatred  of  control — his  impatience  of  ignorance — yet  what  a 
balance  remains  in  his  favour !  A  man  of  genius  and  of  great 
resource,  with  fine  poetic  imagination  and  vehement  enthusiasm, 
but  essentially  active,  practical  and  shrewd,  possessing  a  pro- 
found knowledge  of  his  art,  and  gitted  with  the  spirit  of  design  ; 
a  man  that  any  country  might  be  proud  to  place  at  the  head  of 
her  Art  Institutions  and  employ  upon  works  of  public  decoration, 
that  he  should  animate,  impel,  and  enrich  the  nation  by  his 
genius  and  labour.  And  what  is  his  fate  in  England  ?  He  is 
roughly  repressed  by  that  special  Inst  tution  established  for 
the  support  and  protection  of  the  able  and  eminent  in  his  pro- 
fession, and  repelled  from  her  doors.  He  is  rejected  by  the 
Government,  neglected  by  the  Nobility,  and  driven  by  the  cre- 
dulity and  indifference  of  both  to  pass  the  greater  part  of  his 
life  in  distracting  poverty,  or  imprisonment,  drudging  and 
struggling  for  his  daily  bread,  copying  his  own  works,  which 
others  could  have  done  as  well,  and  squandering  his  fine  powers 
for  a  bare  subsistence,  which  in  the  end  he  fails  to  make,  and  dies. 

It  is  a  reflection  upon  the  governing  classes  of  that  civilized 
nation  where  such  things  are  possible  and  permitted  in  art,  in 
literature,  or  in  science.  When  a  man  who  has  proved  his 
capacity  in  either  stands  before  them,  and  asks  for  employment, 
that  should  be  found  him. 

Yet  disprized  and  neglected  as  he  was  by  his  own  Nobility 
and  Government,  Haydon  played  a  great  part  in  the  Art  of 


ydon'sFace  taken  After  Dkat 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


240 


Europe.  His  discovery  of  the  Principles  of  Nature,  upon  which 
the  School  of  Pheidias  worked,  and  his  carrying  those  prin- 
ciples into  practice  and  instruction,  was  an  enormous  benefit  to 
Art.  By  him  the  fading  historical  art  of  England  was,  for  a 
period,  arrested.  He  saved  the  Elgin  Marbles  to  us ;  he  was 
the  real  leader  in  the  foundation  of  our  Schools  of  Design ;  he 
gave  the  right  direction  to  the  training  and  education  of  artist 
and  artisan,  however  viciously  departed  from  by  the  authorities 
since  his  death ;  he  was  the  man  whose  steady  action  moved 
Parliament  in  favour  of  public  employment  for  our  Painters; 
and  he  advanced  the  cause  of  Art  and  Design  throughout 
the  empire. 

I  cannot  help  thinking  when  an  impartial  posterity  comes 
to  reckon  up  the  services  of  those  Englishmen  who  have 
laboured  scientifically  to  promote  the  educational  value  and 
functions  of  art  in  its  relation  to  our  national  life,  Haydon's 
name  will  not  stand  low  upon  the  list,  for  the  light  he  left 
behind  him  will  assuredly  be  lasting. 

And  thus  it  was  that  Haydon  lived  and  died.  This 
is  the  story  of  his  life.  He  gave  to  our  common  country, 
to  our  Art,  and  to  our  artisans  the  disinterested  labour  of 
a  patriotic  life,  and  he  left  the  memory  of  his  death  to 
the  indelible  disgrace  of  the  Government  and  Nobility  of 
England. 


Sketch  from  Haydon's  Journal  of  a  Figure  in  the  '  Jerusalem.' 


GENEKAL  CORRESPONDENCE. 


From  W.  Jackson  (the  Painter). 

DEAR  HaYDON",  London,  30th  May,  1805. 

Your  letter  afforded  me  exquisite  pleasure,  not  only 
from  the  great  regard  I  have  for  you,  but  also  from  your 
philosophic  manner  of  reasoning.  I  do  firmly  believe  that 
painters  are  capable  of  more  real  gratification  than  any  other 
professional  man  whatever.  But  let  us  be  careful  to  merit 
the  name,  for  how  many  are  there  not  in  our  days  and  genera- 
tion who  may  justly  be  styled  miserable  daubers  ! 

Poor  dear  Mr.  Fuseli  has  been  in  the  country  almost  ever 
since  you  left,  on  account  of  having  suffered  the  misfortune  to 
be  knocked  down  and  run  over  by  a  coach,  returning  from  the 
theatre  one  evening.  1  never  could  learn  particularly  how 
he  was  hurt.  I  believe  his  ankle  was  sprained,  and  he  was 
otherwise  much  bruised ;  but  he  is  doing  well  again,  I  hope. 
The  Academy,  I  regret  to  say,  will  not  be  fit  for  the  reception 
of  the  "  hell-hounds"  before  July.  What  a  disgrace  to  the 
institution ! 

With  regard  to  your  observation  concerning  taste,  I  am 
really  of  your  opinion,  "  It  will  unavoidably  be  regulated  by 
what  is  continually  before  our  eyes;"  and  "a  student  ought 
to  be  debarred  the  sight  of  works  replete  with  gross  errors,"  is 
a  maxim  upon  such  authority  that  M.  Mengs  himself  could 
never  upset.  You  say  you  have  been  drawing  in  Indian  ink ; 
that  is  a  practice  I  should  rather  be  disposed  to  dissuade  you 
from.  Though  you  may  certainly  acquire  the  knowledge  of 
the  anatomy  as  well  in  that  manner  as  any  other,  yet  why  not 
use  the  tools  by  which  your  reputation  is  to  be  acquired  .J 
Depend  upon  it,  my  dear  fellow,  there  is  more  real  difficulty 
in  successfully  handling  the  bru?h  than  some  people  are  aware 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF  B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


of;  therefore,  the  sooner  we  begin  to  u~e  it  the  bettor.  Fur 
my  part,  I  don't  mean  to  draw  much  more,  even  in  chalk.  1 
have  been  advised  by  Sir  George  Beaumont,  since  I  saw  you, 
to  paint  all  my  studies  at  the  Academy  in  black  and  white. 

I  have  not  seen  many  sales  lately,  not  even  the  Shake-peare. 
I  hear  that  the  'Cardinal  Beaufort'  was  sold  for  the  price 
which  was  given  for  it,  and  the  '  Caldron  Scene '  for  less  than 
500/.    Mr.  Fuseli's  sold  for  little  or  nothing.    You  won't  lose 

much  by  not  seeing  this  year's  exhibition.    It  is  an  of 

wretchedness.  Hoppner  made  some  pitiful  excuses  to  me,  but 
I  have  not  room  to  repeat  them.  I  will  tell  you  all  when  we 
meet.  Your  old  friend,  "  God  Bless  my  Soul,"  inquired  after 
you  the  other  dny.    1  met  him  in  the  street. 

I  have  had  the  great  pleasure,  through  the  kindness  of  an 
old  medical  friend,  to  see  many  curious  anatomies  lately.  I 
intend  to  have  a  subject  for  my  own  di  section.  Will  you 
join  me  ?  Only,  for  Heaven's  sake,  let  us  be  sure  that  he  is 
not  murdered,  and  that  he  is  quite  dead. 

Ever,  my  dear  fellow, 

Yours  most  sincere, 

W.  Jackson. 

From  David  Wilkie. 

My  DEAR  FlUEND,  Mulgrave  Castle,  7th  September,  1806. 

.  .  .  We  have  a  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Welch  here,  and 
Sir  George  and  Lady  Beaumont  have  arrived,  so  that  we  only 
want  Mr.  Jackson  to  complete  the  party.  It  will,  perhaps, 
give  you  some  pleasure  to  hear  that  you  are  not  unfrequently 
the  subject  of  their  conversation.  It  appears  that  Mr.  Jackson 
has  spoken  very  highly  of  you  several  times  to  Lord  Mul- 
grave, and  I  have  told  them  of  the  picture  you  are  at  present 
engaged  with,  which  has  raised  their  curiosity  and  expecta- 
tions. Sir  George  has  expressed  a  desire  to  call  upon  you 
when  he  returns  to  London,  and  Lord  Mnlgrave  desires  me  to 
transcribe  a  few  lines  on  a  subject  which  he  seems  very  much 
to  wish  to  have  painted,  as  he  admires  it  for  its  grandeur. 
He  wishes  to  know  if  you  think  it  would  suit  your  ideas, 
although  he  would  not  wish  to  put  any  re  ■ train t  upon  your 
inclination.  The  subject  has  seldom  or  never  been  painted, 
which  his  Lordship  thinks  is  an  advantage  to  it.     I  have 


2j2 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


enclosed  the  lines*  in  this  letter,  so  that  you  may  take  your 
own  time  to  think  of  it ;  but  I  will  hope  to  see  you  myself 
before  it  will  be  necessary  for  you  to  give  any  opinion. 

Sir  George  Beaumont  is  to  allow  me  fifty  guineas  for  my 
picture,!  if  1  am  satisfied  with  it.  lie  says  he  never  intende  1 
to  fix  it  at  the  twenty-five  guineas,  but  only  mentioned  that  at 
the  time  to  Mr.  Jackson,  as  being  the  lowest  that  he  would 
give.  I  think  his  offer  is  very  liberal,  and  I  think  you  will  be 
of  the  same  opinion. 

We  are  all  astonished  that  Mr.  Jackson  is  not  yet  arrived, 
as  we  hear  he  was  to  leave  London  more  than  a  week  ago ; 
but  he  is  not  one  of  those  who  are  scrupulously  punctual  to 
their  word,  else  we  might  be  very  uneasy  about  him.  I  find 
that  Lord  Mulgrave  is  as  well  acquainted  with  his  failings 
as  we  arc.  He  laughs  at  his  unsteadiness,  is  pleased  with  his 
simplicity,  admires  his  talents,  but  grieves  at  his  want  of 
industry ;  and,  moreover,  observes  that  Jackson  is  a  person 
he  never  could  be  angry  with.  I  understand  he  is  to  paint 
the  portrait  of  Mrs.  Welch  when  he  comes  here.  If  he  does 
not  make  a  fine  picture  of  her,  it  will  be  his  owrn  fault,  for  she 
is  a  most  beautiful  woman.  .  .  . 

I  am,  my  dear  friend,  yours  sincerely, 

David  Wilkie. 

From  David  W7ilkie. 

My  DEAR  FRIEND,  Cults,  N.B.,  3rd  June,  1F07. 

Considering  that  of  writing  to  you  is  the  first  duty  I 
have  to  discharge  on  my  arrival  in  Scotland,  I  have  taken 
this  as  the  first  opportunity  that  my  time  would  allow  since 
I  came  to  my  father's  house.  I  left  London,  as  I  purposed, 
when  I  saw  you,  on  the  day  following,  and,  after  a  favourable 
passage  of  live  days,  during  which  I  was  sick  almost  from 
beginning  to  end,  we  arrived  at  Leith  the  Friday  following. 
I  stopped  in  Edinburgh  ten  days,  which  I  spent  in  calling  on 
a  number  of  my  friends ;  and  amongst  them  my  old  master, 
Mr.  Graham,  who  was  very  glad  to  see  me,  and  who  was  the 
only  person  I  have  met  with  in  Scotland  who  could  talk 
reasonably  about  the  art,  for  I  must  confess  the  people  of 
Edinburgh  seem  to  be  far  behind  in  their  knowledge  of  that 

*  An  extract  from  Hook's  'Roman  History,'  relating  to  the  'Death  of  Den- 
talus,'  the  subject  of  tie  picture  subsequently  puinted. — Ed. 
f  Tue  '  Blind  Fiddler.'— Ed. 


DavifJ  mkie  m  aasaryurnerd. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


253 


subject.  I  find  nothing  so  remarkable  in  Edinburgh  as  to 
merit  being  mentioned  to  you,  except  that  Mr.  Geddes  is 
flourishing  at  a  great  rate,  and  making  money  in  the  portrait- 
line  ;  and  from  the  speeches  he  occasionally  makes,  he  is  con- 
sidered by  some,  who  think  themselves  connoisseurs,  as  a  great 
genius.  From  Edinburgh  I  came  on  to  my  father's  house  on 
Monday  last.  I  have  not  yet  had  time  to  begin  anything, 
as  my  painting  apparatus  is  not  yet  come  to  hand ;  but  I  have 
been  looking  about  in  the  village  for  subjects  of  study,  and  I 
have  the  satisfaction  to  find  a  great  number  of  scenes  almost 
superior  to  anything  I  have  yet  seen,  that  combine  the  most 
interesting  sweetness  with  the  most  picturesque  effect. 

On  my  first  landing  in  Scotland,  the  effect  which  the  Scottish 
dialect  had  on  my  ear  was  very  surprising.  .All  my  friends 
seemed  to  spealc  a  language  which  I  had  never  heard  before, 
and  sc  great  is  the  contrast  between  my  mode  of  speaking  and 
theirs,  that  they  think  I  speak  the  English  language  in  all 
its  purity,  an  opinion  in  which  I  am  very  much  inclined  to 
agree.  I  request  you  will  remember  me  particularly  to  Mr. 
Jackson ;  say  that  I  am  exceedingly  sorry  at  not  having  seen 
him  before  I  left  London,  and  that  I  will  probably  write  him. 
Let  me  know  what  progress  you  make  with  your  picture,  and 
Believe  me,  my  dear  Haydon,  yours  truly, 

David  Wilkie. 

From  David  Wilkie. 

My  DEAR  HaYDON,  Cults,  Stli  October,  1807. 

The  intelligence  of  your  success  in  portrait-painting  at 
Plymouth  was  a  piece  of  joyful  news  to  me,  the  more  so  as  I 
assume  to  myself  not  only  the  merit  of  suggesting  the  plan, 
but  of  anticipating  its  success.  I  cannot,  however,  help  being 
a  little  surprised  at  the  rapid  accumulation  of  such  a  sum  of 
money  as  that  you  mention  in  your  letter ;  and  I  am  tempted 
to  intrude  upon  you  another  piece  of  advice,  which  1  hope 
will  not  be  less  successfully  followed  than  that  I  gave  you 
before,  which  is — to  go  on  at  the  same  trade  for  a  little  longer, 
for  I  promise  you  that  you  will  not  have  either  time  or  inclina- 
tion to  return  to  it  on  any  future  occasion. 

Yours, 

Davtd  Wilkie. 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  David  Wilkie. 

My  DEAR  HaYDON,  London,  November,  1S07. 

The  shocking  and  unexpected  account  of  your  mother's 
death  struck  me  with  a  degree  of  amazement  and  horror,  which 
you  may  easily  imagine  such  unlooked-for  intelligence  would 
produce.  Your  letter  from  Exeter  led  me  to  anticipate  some- 
thing of  the  kind ;  but  I  still  entertained  the  hope  of  seeing, 
and  of  endeavouring  to  contribute  in  some  measure  to  alleviate 
the  misfortunes  of  a  person  to  whom  my  friendship  for  you  had 
led  me  to  regard  with  a  kind  of  filial  affection  and  veneration. 
If  I  could  have  been  of  the  smallest  use  to  you  at  Salthill  — 
indeed,  if  you  had  but  hinted  the  slightest  desire  of  seeing  me, 
I  should  have  been  happy  to  have  come  to  you  the  same  day  I 
got  your  letter. 

Although  I  have  not  myself  (thank  God)  had  the  misfortune 
to  experience  the  loss  of  a  mother,  I  can  easily  imagine  the 
effect  such  a  calamitous  circumstance  would  produce  on  a  mind 
much  less  sensitive  than  yours  would  be  so  great  as  to  render 
any  consolation  that  I  could  administer  quite  ineffectual. 
Indeed  were  I  to  comfort  you  by  desiring  you  to  forget  your 
afflictions  and  to  think  no  more  of  the  loss  you  have  sustained, 
I  should  only  show  by  such  an  unnatural  request  a  great  want 
of  feeling  for  your  misfortune ;  nay,  I  believe  it  will  be  much 
more  consonant  with  your  present  state  of  mind  and  more  con- 
genial with  the  sorrows  of  your  heart  to  assure  you  that  not 
only  I  but  all  your  friends  join  you  in  your  lamentations  and 
pity  your  misfortunes.  .  .  .  Lord  Mulgrave  was  very  sorry, 
and  observed  that  you  should  come  to  town  as  soon  as  you  can 
and  leave  those  scenes  which  can  only  recall  the  remembrance 
of  happier  days.  .  .  .  Mr.  Fuseli  also  was  much  afflicted,  and 
said  he  would  write  you  again  if  he  thought  it  would  comfort 
you.  I  wish  my  writing  to  you  now  may  be  attended  with  the 
same  effect,  liemember  me  with  respect  and  affection  to  your 
father;  give  my  love  to  your  sister.  I  should  have  liked  to 
have  seen  her  in  London,  although  I  lament  both  the  cause  of 
her  coming  to  town  and  the  cause  of  her  not  reaching  it. 

I  am,  my  dear  friend, 

Yours  with  affection, 

David  Wilkie. 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


253 


From  Mr.  Haydon  to  his  Son,  B.  P..  Haydon. 

Plymouth,  15th  September,  1808. 

By  this  time  I  hope  you  have  got  the  account  of  the 
unconditional  surrender  of  Junot,  with  the  French  army  and 
Russian  fleet,  to  Admiral  Sir  C.  Cotton.  It  is  a  most  glorious 
finish  of  the  business  in  Portugal,  and  although  Mr.  Boney 
may  and  will,  no  doubt,  push  on  his  hosts  into  Spain,  I  trust 
and  hope  in  God  he  will  meet  with  nothing  but  a  series  of 
defeats.  He  has  already  lost  more  than  70,000  of  his  best 
troops,  and  I  trust  the  Spanish  armies,  with  our  assistance 
now  Portugal  is  free,  will,  as  they  must  be  better  organised 
after  six  months'  hard  fighting,  prove  a  match  for  Boney  and 
all  his  crew.* 

I  sent  the  Admiralty,  last  Saturday,  the  first  account  of  the 
gallant  business  of  the  1  Seahorse,'  38  guns,  and  a  Turkish 
50-gun  ship,  and  two  of  32  guns.  The  first  she  captured  after  an 
action  of  three  hours  and  a  half,  the  second  she  sunk,  and  the 
third  ran  away !  Yesterday's  post  brings  me  a  very  hand- 
some letter  of  thanks  from  Mr.  Pole,  by  command  of  tLeir 
Lordships. 

Your  affectionate  father, 

B.  E.  Haydon. 


From  Haydon  to  his  Father. 

MY  DEAR  FATHER,  London,  21st  December,  1S08. 

It  is  impossible  for  me  to  explain  to  you  all  my  views 
for  the  art  of  my  glorious  country  in  the  limits  of  a  single 
letter ;  it  would  take  a  ream  of  Fenzi's  largest  sheets.  The 
Elgin  Marbles  will  produce  a  revolution  in  the  art  of  this 
country.  The  academic  style,  thank  God,  is  done  for — and 
done  for,  for  ever.  No  more  "  sign-painting  "  now,  if  the  artists 
can  only  appreciate  what  a  treasure  we  have  got.    But  I  fear 

*  This  is  curious  as  showing  the  nature  of  the  first  news  of  the  Convention  of 
Cintra.  The  rage  and  indignation  of  the  English  people  when  tho  real  terms 
granted  to  the  French  and  Russians  came  out,  viz.,  that  they  weie  to  be  carried 
at  the  chorge  of  England  to  their  own  countries  and  landed  free  to  serve  again 
directly  in  the  war,  was  in  proportion  to  their  former  joy,  and  led  to  tho  famous 
inquiry  which  freed  Sir  Arthur  Wellesley  from  all  blame,  but,  as  usual,  left  the 
question  of  the  real  culprit  undecided. — Ed. 


2S6 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


them;  I  fear  the  low  taste  of  the  patrons.  Art  is  looked  upon 
as  nothing  but  a  sort  of  gilding  for  their  drawing-rooms  and 
chimney-pieces.  They  have  no  conception  of  its  public  func- 
tion :  it  is  lamentable,  but  it  is  true.  But  I  will  do  my  best 
to  raise  their  taste  and  to  bring  the  people  to  regard  Art  as  a 
delightful  means  of  moral  elevation;  but  to  do  this  I  must 
touch  their  pockets.  I  must  show  them  it  may  be  made  a  great 
means  of  material  s" access.  Oh !  if  God  only  spares  my  life 
and  grants  me  health  and  eyesight,  I  will  try  to  make  a  great 
revolution  in  this  country  before  I  die.  Would  you  believe  it, 
there  is  not  a  single  school  of  design  to  teach  our  manufacturers 
how  to  draw  ?  And  this  with  the  example  of  Italy  before  their 
eyes,  where  all  the  artists  and  the  artisans  were  instructed  in  the 
same  school  in  the  same  principles  !  Can  anyone  wonder  at  the 
beauty  of  their  work  in  everything,  and  the  ugliness  and  stu- 
pidity of  ours?  Oh!  why  was  I  born  in  this  age?  Why  did 
I  not  live  in  the  days  when  great  patrons  appreciated  a  man 
with  high  aims,  and  encouraged  the  development  of  his  finest 
powers  ?  Here,  what  hope  have  I  among  a  nobility  so  ignorant, 
and  with  tastes  so  low  ?  *  *  *  * 

B.  E.  Haydon. 

Haydon  to  Lord  Elgin,  on  some  proposed  Restorations  to  the 
Elgin  Marbles. 

My  dear  Lord  Elgin,  December,  isos. 

I  hope  you  will  excuse  my  troubling  you  once  more 
about  the  marbles.  You  said  you  intended  to  offer  premiums 
to  those  who  would  produce  the  best  restorations.  Now,  to 
restore  the  mutilated  parts  of  any  figure,  as  they  ought  to  be 
restored,  pre-supposes  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  character  of 
what  remains.  This  could  not  be  expected  from  students  on 
their  first  admission.  I  would  venture,  therefore,  to  propose, 
that  a  twelvemonth  should  be  given  to  them  to  model  and 
investigate  before  they  commenced  restoring,  and  then  I  think 
your  Lordship  would  have  better  chance  of  their  succeeding. 
I  am  so  interested  in  anything  that  concerns  the  marbles,  that 
they  are  become  part  of  my  existence. 

I  am,  my  dear  Lord  Elgin, 

Your  grateful  and  faithful  servant, 

B.  E.  Haydon 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


257 


Haydon  to  his  Father. 

MY  DEAR  FATHER.  London,  1st  April,  1803. 

As  you  may  suppose,  my  situation  at  present  is  far  from 
being  a  very  calm  one — full  of  doubts,  fears,  and  anxiety  about 
the  success  of  my  picture.*  It  occupies  my  mind  all  day,  and 
harasses  it  a  great  part  of  the  night ;  even  my  dreams  are  filled 
■with  it  in  some  way  or  other.  1  dreamed  the  other  night  that 
the  exhibition  was  opened,  and  I  ran  immediately,  of  course, 
to  discover  whether  my  picture  was  hung  well  or  not.  To 
my  utter  astonishment  I  could  not  find  it  in  any  part  of  the 
Academy !  In  a  great  rage  I  went  to  Fuseli  and  told  him  how 
infamously  I  had  been  used.  He  then  came  out  with  me,  and 
after  a  long  search  found  my  poor  picture  covered  over  with  a 
table-cloth  under  the  kitchen  table.    Just  as  I  was  beginning 

to  stamp  with  rage,  I  awoke  !  |   I  hope  will  not  now  neglect 

me ;  at  such  a  time  I  stand  so  much  in  need  of  support.  Con- 
sider how  very  few  have  their  minds  so  cultivated  as  to  feel  the 
beauty  of  Homer  or  Milton,  Virgil  or  Dante,  and  I  feel  afraid 
that  there  are  still  fewer  whom  a  poetical  picture  can  affect. 

To  understand  anything  in  the  highest  branches  of  any 
science  presupposes  a  refined  and  cultivated  mind ;  and  when 
I  reflect  how  few  men  are  capable  of  being  cultivated,  whatever 
advantages  of  education  or  self-improvement  they  may  have, 
it  indeed  makes  me  melancholy.  To  see  such  men  as  Milton, 
Otway,  and  Butler,  with  imagination  that  had  raised  them 
above  the  level,  die  neglected  and  unnoticed,  gives  me  a 
lamentable  proof  of  the  barbarous  ignorance  and  brutality  of 
my  countrymen.  No  nation  on  earth  I  believe  has  produced 
greater  men,  and  no  great  men  in  any  other  country  have  had 
such  difficulties  to  contend  with. 

Ever  your  affectionate  son, 

B.  B.  Haydon. 

Extract  from  a  Letter  to  his  Father. 

Loudon,  10th  April,  1809. 
I  am  never  daunted,  frightened,  or  depressed,  at  diffi- 
culties, however  great.    Difficulties  and  dangers  are  to  me 

*  '  Dentntus.'— Ed. 

+  This  dream  was  prophetic  'Dentatus'  was  not  exactly  put  under  the 
"  kitchen  table,"  which,  of  the  two  places,  would  perhaps  have  been  prefeiable  ; 
but  alter  having  beeu  hung  by  Fuseli  in  the  Great  Rnom,  it  was  removed  by 
Howard  and  Shee  in  Fuseii's  ti  mporary  absence  from  town  and  hung  in  the  dark 
anteroom,  where  it  could  scarcely  be  distinguished.  -  Ed. 

VOL.  I.  £ 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


stimulants  for  exertion.  It  is  undeserved  neglect,  or  disap- 
pointment, that  tempts  me  to  complain  of  life.  I  mean  by- 
difficulties  that,  supposing  I  were  a  soldier,  privation  of  food, 
long  marches,  desperate  battles,  losing  my  legs,  being 
ordered  for  the  forlorn  hope,  &c,  or  bringing  my  troops  into  a 
situation  where  they  must  be  destroyed  unless  relieved  by  an 
immediate  conception  of  my  own ;  or  if  being  a  painter,  as  I 
am,  undertaking  work  which  I  find  myself  unprepared  for, 
being  obliged  to  exert  myself  incessantly  to  render  myself 
adequate,  trying  to  express  the  most  refined  and  difficult  ex- 
pressions, painting  one  head  or  any  part  ten  times  over  before 
I  do  it  rightly.  All  these  are  the  delights  of  my  soul ;  but  if 
after  having  accomplished  them  I  find  the  world  insensible  to 
their  excellence,  I  droop,  feel  depressed,  am  weary  of  life,  and 
then  in  a  tumult  of  indignation  console  myself  with  the  hope 
that  one  day  their  value  will  be  understood. 

Ever  your  affectionate  son, 

B.  E.  Haydon. 

From  David  Wilkte. 
My  deau  Haydon,  isoo. 

I  shall  be  much  obliged  if  you  can  call  to-morrow 
morning  to  consult  as  usual  about  an  alteration  in  my  picture. 

Yours  faithfully, 

David  Wilkie. 

MY  DEAE  HAYDON,  Poll's  Row,  half-past  2,  Friday. 

The  bearer  of  this,  William  Walker,  the  person  I  was 
expecting  when  I  saw  you,  as  you  will  see  has  a  very  fine  head. 
I  think  you  would  do  well  to  make  him  sit  for  the  hero  of 
your  piece,  and  if  you  succeed  as  well  in  it  as  I  think  I  have 
done  in  mine,  we  shall  be  two  happy  fellows. 

Ever  yours, 

David  Wilkie. 

From  David  Wilkie. 

(No  .late),  1810. 

I  shall  be  glad  to  know  how  you  are  getting  on  with 
Macbeth,  and  whether  you  have  finished  any  part  of  it.  I  wish 
you  could  make  the  two  figures  in  the  foreground  youthful  and 
elegant,  you  ought  to  have  variety  of  character  in  the  picture, 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


250 


and  nothing  could  be  more  appropriate,  I  think,  than  fine 
young  men  so  near  the  person  of  a  king,  as  we  may  suppose 
them  placed  in  his  chamber  more  for  show  and  convenience 
than  for  protection.  You  must  also  recollect  that  you  have 
not  yet  exhibited  any  pictures  with  figures  of  a  youthful 
character  in  them.  I  shall  also  be  glad  to  know  what  you 
have  done  or  mean  to  do  with  your  sketch  of  a  lion  looking 
up  ?  Whatever  you  put  into  it  (although  of  secondary  conse- 
quence to  the  lion  itself)  let  it  be  sufficiently  attractive  to  call 
for  some  attention  from  the  spectator.  I  shall  be  glad  to  hear 
from  you  as  soon  as  convenient,  and  when  you  write  to  your 
father  remember  me  to  him,  and  to  your  sister,  and  your  uncle 
Cobley. 

Believe  me  ever  sincerely, 

David  Wilkie. 

P.S. — I  intend  to  try  something  on  a  small  panel  I  have  got 
from  a  man  who  is  coming  to  sit,  and  although  I  shall  not 
bestow  much  labour  on  it,  I  hope  to  give  it  that  which  will 
make  it  a  marketable  commodity. 

From  David  Wilkie. 

My  DEAR  HaYDON,  Dunmow  (no  date),  1810. 

I  am  getting  on  pretty  briskly  with  the  little  picture  I 
told  you  of.  The  subject  of  it  is  a  man  sitting  warming  his 
hands  at  the  fire,  and  as  the  figure  of  the  man  which  is  only 
seen  in  half  length  fills  a  great  part  of  the  panel,  I  expect  very 
soon  to  get  it  finished.  My  whole  care  is  to  be  so  decided  in 
every  touch  I  put  on  as  not  to  require  any  alteration  or  amend- 
ment afterwards,  and  you  cannot  think  how  such  precaution 
facilitates  and  shortens  the  labour. 

I  am  glad  you  are  advancing  with  Macbeth.  I  should  re- 
commend you  to  paint  it  as  if  you  did  not  intend  to  alter,  and 
to  alter  what  you  have  done  only  where  it  is  unavoidable.  Your 
sketch  of  the  lion  I  can  conceive  will  do  very  well  with  the 
blood  on  the  ground,  but  I  think  some  real  object  before  him 
would  have  taken  off  more  the  appearance  of  a  portrait  which 
I  am  afraid  it  will  have  by  itself.  The  skull  I  can,  however, 
see  would  not  do,  as  it  could  not  be  found  in  the  state  we 
generally  see  it  in  a  lion's  den,  and  to  make  it  mangled  by  the 
teeth  of  the  lion  would  be  disgusting.  The  antelope  would 
certainly,  if  you  had  room  for  it,  have  been  much  better.  I 

s  2 


a6d 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


see  the  Academy  have  elected  Arnold  into  their  body,  which  I 
believe  is  a  very  proper  choice.  I  should  like  to  know  if  Biid 
was  a  candidate.    Try  if  yon  can  inform  me. 

Let  me  hear  from  you  soon.  I  shall  not  leave  this  for  a 
fortnight. 

Tours  most  faithfully, 

David  Wilkie. 

Haydon  to  Lord  Mulgrave. 

22ml  May,  1810. 

I  feel  grateful,  my  dear  Lord,  at  the  deliberate  manner 
in  which  you  have  expressed  your  hopes  that  my  exertions 
will  not  be  weakened.  Be  assured,  dear  Lord  Mulgrave,  that 
the  honour  which  has  just  been  conferred  upon  me  *  shall 
rouse  me  to  the  highest  possible  pitch  of  exertion.  I  consider 
my  present  success  as  one  step  only  of  the  fifty  I  have  yet  to 
make  before  I  can  approach  the  great  object  of  my  being. 

Believe  me,  dear  Lord  Mulgrave, 

Your  faithful  and  grateful  servant, 
B.  B.  Haydon. 

From  David  Wilkie. 

My  DEAR  HAYDON,  Cults,  16th  September,  1811. 

We  were  all  overjoyed  at  hearing  from  you.  I  read 
parts  of  your  letter  to  all  the  people  in  the  house,  not 
excepting  John  Andereon  and  Cleghorn.  They  have  all 
wished  that  you  were  with  us,  and  my  mother  has  said  again 
and  again  that  there  is  no  person  she  would  be  more  happy 
to  see. 

We  have  watched  the  '  Examiner  '  anxiously  for  your  letter, 
and  have  been  much  gratified  by  its  arrival.  The  first  thing 
that  struck  me  on  seeing  it  was  that  it  was  much  better  than  [ 
expected.  I  think  the  subjectf  is  very  interesting,  and  were 
you  able  to  collect  a  sufficient  number  of  well-authenticated 
facts,  you  might  at  some  future  time  by  classifying  and 
illustrating  them  produce  a  work  that  would  do  you  great 
credit. 

*  The  selection  of  '  Dentatus '  for  the  Historical  Trize  at  the  British  Gallery. 
—Ed. 

f  The  "Negro  Controversy"  carried  on  with  Leigh  Hunt  in  the  'Examiner' 
newspaper. — Er>. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


261 


I  rather  regret,  with  this  view,  that  you  should  have  antici- 
pated any  part  of  the  support  in  a  periodical  publication  like 
the  '  Examiner,'  when  the  merit  of  it  as  a  scientific  research 
has  been  entirely  overlooked,  and  what  might  naturally  have 
been  expected  from  those  banditti  "  correspondents ;"  it  has 
been  abused  and  ridiculed  only  as  a  political  speculation. 
This,  however,  you  have  in  some  degree  provoked  by  asserting 
in  so  bold  a  manner  the  total  incapability  of  improvement  in 
the  negro,  a  point  the  history  of  mankind  does  not  bear  you 
out  in.  and  I  think  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  subject  of  your 
pursuit. 

The  part  of  your  letter  which  I  think  most  successful  is 
where  you  declaim  against  the  idea  of  the  deformities  of  the 
negroes  being  artificial,  and  that  wherein  you  expose  the 
absurdity  of  the  passions  and  wants  of  animals  being  supplied 
and  administered  unto  by  a  human  form. 

I  think,  considering  the  acknowledgment  Leigh  Hunt  has 
been  obliged  to  make  of  the  errors  you  pointed  out,  that  his 
observations  are  candid  and  do  him  credit.  I  endeavoured  to 
explain  some  of  your  theories  to  Mr.  Cleghorn's  father,  who 
was  much  pleased  with  their  ingenuity.  He  denies,  however, 
the  impossibility  of  the  negro  becoming  civilised,  and  insists 
stoutly  on  the  similarity  of  the  ancient  Egyptians  to  the 
present  race  of  African  negroes  as  a  proof  in  favour  of  his 
opinion. 

I  have  seen  Mr.  Chalmers,  the  political  economist.  He  has 
laid  aside  his  economical  theories  for  the  present,  and  having 
been  lately  employed  to  write  the  article  '  Christianity '  for 
Brewster's  '  Encyclopedia,'  he  has  applied  himself  so  earnestly 
to  the  study  of  that  subject  that  it  has  changed  entirely  his 
system  of  doctrine  and  belief,  and  instead  of  being  a  practical 
moralist,  as  he  was  formerly,  he  has  plunged  himself  into  the 
depths  of  speculative  theology,  and  is  attracting  the  whole 
neighbourhood  to  hear  him  preach  faith  and  repentance. 
Write  soon. 

I  am,  Sir, 

D.  Wilkie. 

From  David  Wilkie. 

My  DEAK  HAVDON,  Cults,  Cupar,  Fifeshire,  7th  October,  1811. 

Your  letter  recounting  the  number  of  circumstances 
with  which  your  attention  was  then  occupied  gave  us  all  very 


262 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


great  entertainment.  The  controversy  with  the  'Examiner' 
about  the  negro  has  interested  a  number  of  people  here,  and  I 
have  endeavoured  to  explain  to  those  and  have  made  acquainted 
with  it  the  nature  and  extent  of  your  theory.  I  have  pointed 
out  the  leading  differences  between  their  forms  and  ours,  and 
have  got  into  a  sort  of  knack  of  drawing  the  various  heads  that 
exemplify  the  different  steps  in  the  scale  of  being.  Such  parts 
of  it  as  cannot  be  so  illustrated  I  have  found  ways  and  means 
of  representing  in  my  own  person,  and  have  succeeded  not 
amiss  in  imitating  the  awkward  gait  and  gesture  of  the  negro. 
To  turn,  however,  from  the  subject  of  your  researches  which 
everybody  here  allows,  in  so  far  as  it  regards  our  art,  to  be  a 
most  innocent  and  useful  inquiry  to  that  of  the  controversy  to 
which  it  has  given  rise,  I  must  do  you  the  justice  to  say  that, 
contrary  to  my  fears  and  expectations,  when  you  first  began 
the  dispute,  you  have  most  manfully  beaten  all  your  adver- 
saries out  of  the  field.  Your  first  letter  I  thought  laid  you 
open  to  various  attacks,  and  did  not  in  my  opinion  state  your 
views  of  the  subject  with  sufficient  clearness  to  prevent  their 
being  misunderstood.  Your  second  letter,  however,  got  the 
bettor  of  all  this,  and  gave  you  completely  the  advantage  in 
the  argument ;  and  your  third  letter,  which  was  fully  as  well 
argued  as  the  second,  gained  you  completely  the  victory,  even 
on  those  points  where  the  weapons  were  furnished  by  your 
opponents  themselves.  Here  I  expected  the  question  to  rest, 
and  although  you  had  not  the  last  word  in  the  dispute,  you  had 
shown  a  much  better  acquaintance  with  the  subject,  more 
general  learning,  and  a  more  philosophical  way  of  reasoning 
than  any  of  the  modern  political  pamphleteers  on  the  other 
side.  How  you  came  to  think  a  fourth  letter  necessary  is  to 
me  quite  inexplicable,  for  although  it  is  as  well  written  as  any 
of  the  others,  it  has  done  no  good  to  the  discussion  in  general, 
and  may  subject  you  to  be  again  irritated  by  a  reply.  I  have 
shown  (Jleghorn  the  papers  as  they  came  out,  and  he  thinks 
you  have  been  very  successful.  Chalmers  has  also  been  to 
preach  for  my  father,  and  he  expressed  himself  very  well 
pleaded  with  your  style.  Both  Cleghorn  and  I  wish  you  would 
publish  no  more  of  your  inquiries  in  the  '  Examiner.'  The 
subject  will  get  hackneyed  before  you  have  brought  it  to 
maturity,  and  certainly  will  not  gain  in  respectability  by 
having  its  merits  debated  in  a  newspaper.  ...  I  hope  your 
father  is  well.    I  beg  to  be  most  kindly  remembered  to  him 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


263 


and  to  Harriet  when  next  you  write.  I  am  glad  to  hear  you 
think  you  have  succeeded  in  your  body  of  Macbeth.  I  shall 
expect  to  see  it  well  advanced.  If  Seguier  and  Jackson  have 
corne  back  to  town,  pray  remember  me. 

I  am,  my  dear  Haydon, 

Yours  most  affectionately, 
David  Wilkib. 

From  John  Eastlake. 
My  deak  Haydon,  (No  date)  i8ii. 

I  feel  much  obliged  for  your  introduction  to  Mr.  Hunter, 
for  it  has  and  will  be  of  service  to  me  in  acquiring  what  is 
"  gemmis  venale  nec  auro,"  and  what  I  think  is  of  the  greatest 
importance,  Utility.  After  you  had  arranged  that  you  would 
not  wait  on  Hunter,  &c,  I  find  you  called  on  him  on  Saturday. 
I  am  not  without  hope  that  you  did  this  from  having  changed 
your  opinion  on  the  subject.  Certainly  more  worthy  of  you 
than  supposing  me  to  be  "  wasting  my  time  in  acquiring  what 
I  could  learn  at  Mogadore  in  two  days."  .  .  .  Ask  Hunter 
whether  he  thinks  that  I  could  "  at  Mogadore "  become  in 
"  two  days  "  rifleman  enough  to  shoot  an  eagle  twice  as  big  as 
himself,  as  Bruce  did,  or  pick  off  a  tiger,  or  what  is  nearly  as 
formidable,  a  hostile  Arab. 

It  does  not,  as  I  told  you,  follow  that  because  a  thing  is 
contemptible  as  an  end,  that  it  should  be  so  as  a  mean  also. 
You  know  I  study  it  as  a  mean.  Why  then  do  you  attach  to  it 
the  contempt  of  an  end  ?  The  Turkish  and  all  locks  of  guns 
used  by  the  Moslems  are  constructed  upon  a  different  principle 
from  the  English  locks.  Was  it  "  wasting  time  "  to  get  one  of 
these  Turkish  locks  and  understand  how  to  take  it  to  pieces, 
and  how  to  repair  it  ?  Do  you  not  remember  Mungo  Park's 
fatal  ignorance  of  this  useful  knowledge  when  the  old  Dooty 
brought  him  out  three  muskets  to  repair,  but  which  he  could 
not  from  inability  ?  Wrhen  I  next  tell  you  I  have  been  study- 
ing guns  and  rifle  shooting,  you  will  not,  I  vouch  &r  it,  tell 
me  I  have  been  wasting  time. 

Yours  sincerely, 

Jko.  Eastlake. 

P.S. — I  was  successful  on  the  heath  yesterday.  Of  the  first 
and  only  six  shots  from  150  yards  and  a  rest  all  wore  target 


26+ 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


hits,  and  two  were  eyes.  Of  seven  or  eight  shots  from  the 
shoulder  at  100  yards  two  or  three  were  targets.  Of  a 
number  shot  from  2J0  yards  and  a  rest  I  was  not  very 
successful  in.* 

From  David  "Wilkie,  on  the  attach  upon  the  Academtj. 

,T  TT  29,  Phillimore  Place,  Kensington, 

MY  DEAR  HaYDON,  Monday,  3rd  February,  1812. 

I  have  seen  your  two  papers  in  the  'Examiner,'  but 
although  I  have  had  occasion  to  admire  what  you  have  for- 
merly written  in  that  paper,  and  am  as  forward  as  any  one  to 
give  you  the  highest  praise  (which  you  certainly  deserve)  for  the 
picture  you  have  lately  finished,  I  must  really,  as  a  friend,  say 
that  I  cannot  congratulate  you  upon  what  you  have  now  offered 
to  the  public  in  this  paper.  You  have  laid  yourself  open  not 
merely  to  the  charge  of  spleen  and  disappointment,  and  to  the 
resentment  of  the  Academy,  all  of  which  you  no  doubt  laid 
your  account  with,  but  to  a  charge  that  is  much  worse,  and 
which  I  dare  say  you  had  no  notion  of  when  you  wrote  the 
papers,  that  of  reviling  the  Academy  in  order  to  ingratiate 
yourself  with  the  Institution.  Thus  your  panegyric  on  the 
general  conduct  of  the  Institution,  your  indignation  at  the 
aspersion  which  was  attempted  to  be  thrown  on  the  purchase 
of  Mr.  West's  picture,  and  your  approbation  of  the  plan  of 
giving  premiums  will  all,  1  assure  you,  conspire  very  much  to 
strengthen,  and  although  those  who  know  you  may  be  ready 
to  acquit  you  of  any  such  views,  there  will  not  be  wanting 
many  who  will  be  glad  to  use  so  convenient  a  handle  against 
you.  I  do  not  mention  this,  I  assure  you,  for  the  sake  of 
finding  fault,  but  rather  to  put  you  on  your  guard,  for  it 
appears  to  me  whoever  may  think  proper  to  attack  what  you 
have  written,  this  is  what  you  will  be  most  loudly  called 
upon  to  answer.  In  all  this,  however,  you  are  yourself  only 
concerned.  But  I  am  very  sorry  to  find  by  the  way  you  have 
mentioned  my  name,  and  the  manner  in  which  you  have  made 
me  an  exgeption  to  all  that  you  complain  of  in  the  Academy, 
that  I  must  also  become  a  sharer  in  the  recriminations  you 
have  been  calling  forth,  and  I  can  also  see  that  in  order  to  do 
justice  to  the  person  you  have  opposed  me  to,  which  you  cer- 
tainly have  not  done,  it  will  be  necessary  in  those  who  take  his 

*  As  a  specimea  of  the  rifle  shooting  in  1811,  this  is  interesting.— Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


~r5 


part  to  do  a  greater  injustice  to  me  to  restore  things  tu  their 
proper  level.  I  thiuk  that  consideration  for  his  being  a  com- 
petitor for  the  same  premiums  that  you  are  contending  for 
should  have  restrained  you. 

"You  have  certainly  got  plenty  of  work  upon  your  shoulders, 
and  I  should  advise  you  to  get  out  of  it  the  best  way  you  can. 
"But  is  this  the  way  an  artist  should  be  engaged?  Why  not 
follow  up  the  reputation  your  painting  might  gain  you  ?  Let 
that  carry  you  through.  It  will  lessen  the  respect  that  people 
would  have  for  your  talents  as  a  painter  when  they  found  them 
employed  disputing  in  a  newspaper.  I  shall  be  miserable  till 
T  hear  you  are  going  on  with  your  new  picture.  I  shall 
then  only  be  assured  that  you  have  regained  your  peace  of 
mind. 

I  have  been  getting  on  well  with  my  '  Blind  Man's  Buff,' 
which  I  wish  you  much  to  come  and  see.  I  called  the  other 
day,  but  I  did  not  find  you.  Could  you  come  and  dine  with 
me  on  Wednesday  the  Fast  day  ?  I  shall  be  very  quiet,  and  if 
you  come  early  you  can  have  a  ride  on  the  horse.  I  can  dine 
either  at  three  or  four  o'clock  if  you  will  come.  If  I  do  not 
hear  from  you  I  shall  expect  you. 

I  am,  my  dear  Haydon, 

"Yours  most  sincerely, 

David  Wilkib. 


Letter  from  Wilkie  after  Haydon's  attach  on  the  Academy. 
My  dear  Haydon,  April,  1812. 

I  have  given  the  subject  of  your  note  some  consideration, 
and,  as  I  believe  that  under  the  present  circumstances  your 
going  to  a  private  view  at  the  Royal  Academy  with  one  of  my 
tickets  would  do  me  a  very  serious  injury,  I  shall  esteem  it  a 
particular  favour  if  you  will  not  insist  on  having  the  ticket  for 
the  purpose.  If  it  were  necessary  to  satisfy  yoi1.  that  I  have  no 
improper  views  in  asking  such  a  favour,  I  should  have  no 
objection  to  destroy  the  ticket  in  question,  otherwise  I  think  it 
might  be  a  gratification  to  yourself  as  well  as  to  me  if  I  were 
to  give  it  to  our  common  friend,  to  whom  it  might  perhaps  b© 
of  some  service. 

Yours, 
David  Wjlkie. 


266 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  David  Wilkie. 

My  DEAlt  HaYDON,  Mulgrave  Castle,  12th  September,  1812. 

When  you  write  again  I  shall  expect  all  the  news  of 
your  visit  to  Cheddar,  how  you  found  your  sister  and  your 
friends,  and  how  you  were  amused.  If  you  have  done  much 
among  the  rocks  in  the  way  of  study,  I  shall  be  the  more  dis- 
posed to  give  you  credit  from  the  idleness  with  which  my  own 
time  has  been  spent.  A  life  in  the  country  furnishes  so  many 
allurements  that  it  is  impossible  to  set  about  anything  like 
serious  study  when  there.  It  makes  one  even  shrink  from  the 
thought  of  recommencing  the  necessary  labour  in  town. 

I  find  no  want  of  amusement  in  this  place  which  has  pre- 
vented me  doing  anything  in  the  way  of  study.  I  have  had  a 
notion  for  the  first  time  I  ever  thought  of  such  a  thing  of 
trying  my  hand  at  partridge  shooting,  and  have  been  already 
two  days  out  with  the  gamekeeper.  The  game  is  but  scarce, 
and  the  first  day  I  had  to  content  myself  by  shooting  a  crow 
that  was  over  our  heads.  The  second  day,  however,  the  game- 
keeper and  I  brought  in  three  brace,  one  of  the  partridges 
comprising  which  was  of  my  shooting.  This  is  considered  by 
our  sportsmen  here  as  a  great  success  for  a  beginner,  and  has 
given  me  a  great  relish  for  the  amusement.  The  fatigue 
attending  it  prevents  me  going  out  more  than  twice  a  week, 
but  we  have  contrived  to  lessen  that  by  riding  on  ponies  to  the 
ground  where  the  game  is  lodged.  I  have  also  been  trying  to 
learn  chess,  and  intend  having  a  touch  at  billiards.  By  the 
time  I  get  back  to  London  I  shall  be  quite  an  accomplished 
gentleman. 

Lord  Mulgrave  and  the  General  when  they  were  at  Scar- 
borough saw  Jackson  at  the  corporation  dinner  and  told  him  I 
was  here.  They  sent  next  morning  to  invite  him  to  come 
over  to  Mulgrave,  but  to  their  surprise  found  that  he  had  left 
Scarborough  early  that  morning,  nobody  knew  where.  He  was 
observed  to  sit  at  dinner  next  to  Bannister,  who  they  learned 
had  also  left  Scarborough  early  that  morning  for  Backston,  a 
town  in  one  of  the  inland  counties. 

David  Wilkie. 

From  Leigh  Hunt. 

Mr  DEAR  HaYDON,  West  End,  Hampstead,  25th  November,  1812. 

Mrs.  Hunt  is  going  to  her  modelling  again,  and  wishes 
for  a  good  original  bust,  not  so-  large  as  life,  in  order  that  sho 


Intdligenee  and  Ignorance.    Pen  Sketches  (Omntbus  Heads.) 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


1^7 


may  be  able  to  work  at  it  easily  and  on  the  table  of  an  evening. 
Do  you  know  anybody  who  could  lend  her  such  a  one  for  two 
or  three  months,  and  a  small  bust  of  Apollo,  for  instance,  or 
any  other  that  has  a  good  poetical  head  of  hair  ? 

I  am  getting  better,  just  in  time  for  those  legal  rogues,  and 
am  preparing  my  next  Sunday's  lash  for  that  poor  creature  at 
Carlton  House,  whom  I  really  commiserate  all  the  while. 

I  hope  '  Solomon  '  goes  on  well  (what  a  transition !),  but  pray 
don't  forget  your  '  Mercury  '  as  an  occasional  refreshment.  It 
is  an  exquisite  little  conception,  and  dipped  in  poetry. 

Yours  very  truly, 

Leigh  Hunt. 

To  Leigh  Hunt,  in  prison  for  libelling  the  Pkince  Kegent. 

MY  DEAR  HUNT,  Friday  night,  12th  February,  1813. 

I  am  most  anxious  to  see  you,  but  have  been  refused 
admittance,  and  was  told  yesterday  you  would  write  to  your 
friends  when  you  wished  to  see  them,  by  Mr.  Cave,  the  Under- 
Governor  or  gaoler.  I  really  felt  my  heart  ache  at  every  line 
of  your  last  week's  effusion.  All  your  friends  were  affected, 
and  all  complained  of  the  cruelty  and  severity  of  your  sentence. 
I  am  delighted  Mrs.  Hunt  and  the  children  are  now  admitted 
to  you,  and  if  they  ultimately  relax,  with  respect  to  your 
friends,  I  hope  in  God  the  pressure  of  your  imprisonment  will 
be  greatly  lightened.  I  must  say  I  have  been  excessively 
irritated  at  not  having  seen  you  yet ;  and  had  I  gone  to  you 
as  I  intended  the  day  on  which  the  committee  sat,  I  find,  my 
dear  fellow,  I  should  have  been  allowed  to  see  you ;  but  1 
suffered  myself  to  be  advised  out  of  my  intention.  I  have 
never  yet  acted  by  the  advice  of  others,  in  opposition  to  my 
own  judgment,  without  having  cause  to  repent  it.  1  assure  you, 
my  dear  Hunt,  I  think  of  you  often,  with  the  most  melancholy 
and  exquisite  sensations.  After  my  day's  study  I  generally 
lay  my  head  on  my  hand,  draw  near  the  fire,  and  muse  upon 
you  till  midnight,  till  I  am  completely  wrapped  in  the  delu- 
sion of  my  fancy.  I  see  you,  as  it  were,  in  a  misty  vision.  I 
imagine  myself  quietly  going  to  you  in  the  solemnity  of  even- 
ing ;  I  think  I  perceive  your  massy  prison,  erect,  solitary, 
nearly  lost  in  deep-toned  obscurity,  pressing  the  earth  with 
supernatural  weight,  encircled  with  an  atmosphere  of  enchanted 
6ilence,  into  which  no  being  can  enter  without  a  shudder.  As 


268 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


I  advance  with  whispering  steps  I  imagine,  with  an  acuteness 
that  amounts  to  reality,  I  hear  oozing  on  the  evening  wind,  as 
it  sweeps  along  with  moaning  stillness,  the  strains  of  your 
captive  flute ;  1  then  stop  and  listen  with  gasping  agitation, 
and  with  associations  of  our  attachment,  and  all  the  friendly 
affecting  proofs  I  have  had  of  it ;  afraid  to  move,  afraid  to  stir, 
lest  I  might  lose  one  melancholy  tone,  or  interrupt  by  the  most 
imperceptible  motion  one  sweet  and  soothing  undulation.  My 
dear  fellow,  I  am  not  a  man  of  tears,  nor  do  I  recollect  ever 
yielding  to  them  but  when  my  mother  died.  But  I  declare  I 
felt  a  choking  sensation  when  I  rose  to  retire  to  rest  after  this 
waking  abstraction.  I  have  no  doubt  we  shall  talk  over  this 
part  of  our  existence  when  we  are  a  little  advanced  in  life  with 
excessive  interest.  Let  misfortune  confirm  instead  of  shake 
your  principles,  and  you  will  issue  again  into  the  world  as 
invulnerable  as  you  left  it.  Take  care  of  your  health  ;  use  as 
much  exercise  as  you  can.  Send  me  word  by  your  nephew,  or 
through  Mrs.  Hunter,  when  I  can  see  you,  for  which  I  am  very 
anxious ;  and  believe  me,  unalterably  your  faithful  and  attached 
friend, 

B.  B.  Haydon. 

From  Benjamin  West. 

DEAR  SlR,  Newman  Street,  17th  February,  1814. 

The  business  was  not  adjusted  in  time  for  me  to  draw 
out  money  from  my  bankers  before  five  o'clock  this  day,  or  I 
would  have  sent  it  to  you ;  but  I  hope  the  enclosed  draft  of 
to-morrow's  date  will  be  adiquate  (sic)  to  keep  the  wolfe  (sic) 
from  your  door,  and  leave  your  mind  in  freedom  in  exercising 
your  talents  of  acquiring  excellence  in  your  profession  in 
painting,  of  which  you  have  a  stock  to  work  upon. 

Dear  Sir,  yours  with  friendship  and  sincerity, 

Benjamin  West. 

p.S. — The  gout  in  my  right  hand  has  made  it  deficult  (sic) 
for  me  to  write  this  note  inteligeble  (sic)* 

Mr.  Haydon. 

*  Haydon  (1843)  endorses  tins  letter:  "I  hope  this  will  he  read  some  day 
throughout  Kusope.  1  hope  it  will  show  the  great  nations— France,  Germany, 
liussia.  Spain,  and  Italy— how  England  encourages  High  Art,  and  in  what  a 
condition  it  leaves  its  prolessors,  young  and  old.    Whilst  I  write  this  1  havo 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


269 


From  David  Wilkie. 

MY  DEAR  HaYDON,  24,  Phillmore  Place,  25th  April,  1814. 

I  have  been  to-day  to  Spring  Gardens  to  see  your  pic- 
ture (the  '  Judgment  of  Solomon  ')  and  I  congratulate  you  most 
heartily  on  its  good  appearance,  and  on  the  decidedly  favourable 
impression  it  has  made,  and  will  continue  to  make,  on  the  pub- 
lic mind.  I  have  reason  to  hope  that  you  will  get  it  sold,  and 
that  the  reception  this  picture  is  meeting  with  will  be  but  the 
beginning  of  a  brilliant  course  of  success. 

You  will  have  many  applications  about  the  engraving*  of 
the  picture,  but  do  not  be  too  hasty  in  disposing  of  it  unless 
you  are  sure  it  will  be  very  well  done. 

My  dear  Haydon,  yours  very  faithfully, 

David  Wilkie. 

To  John  ScoTT.t 

Dear  Scott,  4th  May,  1814. 

I  have  thought  of  another  subject  for  a  picture,  one 
which  leaves  the  other  "  far  in  the  abject  rear,"  '  Christ's 
Triumphant  Entry  into  Jerusalem,'  His  Mother  weeping  for 
joy;  Magdalen  pale  with  her  eating  passion  ;  the  mob  in 
enthusiasm,  all  expressing  their  various  emotions. 

Never  was  there  a  finer  subject ;  never  was  there  one  that 
left  such  scope  to  the  painter's  invention.  After  a  miserable 
night  of  restless  anxiety  from  seeing  and  feeling  my  other 
subject  was  not  the  one  exactly,  I  got  up  yesterday  in  a  per- 
fect fever,  and  turned  over  the  Testament  in  discontent,  when 
this  caught  my  eye.  The  whole  scene  rushed  into  my  brain 
as  if  the  sun  had  burst  out  at  midnight.  I  have  made  a  sketch, 
and  now  feel  all  the  comfort  and  confidence  in  beginning  my 

been  eight  years  without  a  commission  from  the  nobility ;  and  of  the  thirty-nine 
years  I  have  been  a  historical  painter,  thirty-two  have  been  without  an  order  of 
any  kind  Hilton  could  ha»  e  told  a  talc  as  sad  ;  West,  but  for  the  King,  perhaps 
worse  At  eighty  years  of  age  this  celebrated  old  man,  who  had  been  taught  to 
rely  on  his  income  from  the  King  as  long  as  ho  lived,  had  it  taken  from  him  by 
the  hatred  of  Queen  Charlotte.  The  secret  r<  ason  was,  he  had  visited  and  been 
honoured  by  Napoleon  in  1S02.  Such  is  Royal  vengeance!  Royalty,  1  allow, 
sometimes  rewards  fidelity,  but  it  always  punishes  offence." — En. 

*  This  picture,  the  'Judgment  of  Solomon,'  has  never  been  engraved.  It  is 
now  the  property  of  Loivsa,  l  ady  Ashburton. 

t  Killed  in  a  nocturnal  duel  with  Mr.  ChrLtie,  February  15,  1821.  See 
'  Anuuol  Register.' — Ed. 


270 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


picture  (which  I  shall  to-day)  that  a  good  subject  always 
inspires. 

Believe  me,  yours  always, 

13.  E.  Haydon. 

From  Leigh  Hunt. 

MY  DEAR  HAYDON,  Surrey  Gaol,  5th  May,  1814. 

I  need  not  tell  you  how  I  rejoice  at  the  sale  of  your 
picture,*  nor  in  the  conquest  you  have  obtained  over  the 
people  by  the  mainforce  of  talent  and  independence.  It  is  a 
truly  English  victory.  But  I  must  tell  you  that  it  is  more 
gratifying  to  me  to  have  heard  from  you  in  the  moment  of 
prosperity,  than  I  can  express.  I  have  sometimes  wished  to 
see  you  oftener,  and  would  have  liked  also  (for  a  particular 
purpose)  to  have  obtained  a  sight  of  your  work  had  it  been 
possible  ;f  but  I  knew  the  demand  made  upon  your  time  and 
attention,  and  waited  for  the  days  when  you  would  be  more  at 
leisure.  Come,  then,  as  soon  as  you  can,  and  let  us  jitbilize 
with  you.  You  are  bound  to  be  with  me  when  you  can,  for  I 
trust  that  we  are  destined  to  go  down  to  posterity  together,  ;  s 
you  know  we  have  often  indulged  ourselves  in  hoping.  God 
bless  you. 

Ever  your  affectionate  friend, 

Leigh  Hunt. 

To  Leigh  Hunt. 

My  DEAR  LEIGH  HUNT,  Paris,  6th  June,  1S14. 

The  moment  Wilkie  and  I  had'placed  our  trunks  in  our 
hotel,  down  we  sallied  to  the  Louvre.  The  gallery  of  pictures 
was  shut,  so  we  walked  about  and  contemplated  the  building 
in  its  various  positions.  There  is  something  grand  in  the 
extension  of  its  square,  but  the  building  itself  is  mean.  Small 
windows  by  thousands,  and  chimneys  by  hundreds,  make  it 
look  more  like  a  model  in  wood  for  a  larger  building  than  like 
the  palace  itself.  This  was  my  impression.  In  the  middle, 
Buonaparte  has  erected  a  triumphal  arch,  nearly  an  exact 
copy  of  the  arch  of  Titus,  and  what  is  not  an  exact  copy  does 
no  honour,  but  rather  reflects  disgrace  upon  French  art. 
Upon  the  top  is  a  triumphal  car,  gilded,  to  which  he  has 

*  The  '  Judgment  of  Solomon.' 

t  II  ij-don  subsequently  had  the  picture  taken  down  to  Surrey  Gaol  nnd  put  up 
iu  the  prison,  f  r  the  (unusemeut  and  satisfaction  of  Lei_,h  Hunt  and  his  brother, 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


271 


yoked  the  four  bronze  hoiy.es  he  took  from  Venice,  and  on  each 
side  is  a  Victory  grappling  the  bridle.  The  who^  is  gilded, 
and  has  a  showy,  but  not  a  sublime  look.  The  shafts  of  the 
columns  are  of  reddish  marble,  the  capitals  and  bases  of  bronze. 
To  me  this  is  childish  and  useless.  The  long  line  of  view  from 
this  arch  down  the  Tuileries  gardens,  through  the  Champs- 
Elysees  to  the  Arc  de  Triomphe,  at  the  other  end,  is  certainly 
very  long,  but  that  is  all.  There  is  nothing  natural  or  affecting 
in  such  ropeivalks.  After  sauntering  about  till  night,  we  went 
to  bed,  and  at  ten  the  next  morning  we  were  at  the  Louvre 
door.  To  be  quite  sure  about  it,  I  had  gone  down  about 
6  a.m.,  and  had  inquired  of  a  national  guard,  who,  with 
the  most  gentlemanlike  manner,  entered  into  conversation 
about  England  and  the  war,  about  Buonaparte  and  the  revo- 
lution, and  I  can  tell  you  in  a  manner  that  you  would  have 
been  surprised,  my  dear  Hunt,  to  meet  with  in  a  militiaman 
in  England. 

After  breakfast  down  we  went.  I  kept  thinking  as  I  went 
along,  "Am  I  going  to  see  the  '  Transfiguration'?"  and  then  I 
had  a  sort  of  whirl  in  my  head.  On  I  walked.  The  first  thing 
that  convinced  me  I  was  at  the  Louvre,  was  the  politeness  of 
the  attendant  at  the  door,  who,  without  looking  through  you 
for  half  an  hour,  as  with  us,  took  my  umbrella  and  opened  the 
door.  I  jumped  two  steps  :  again  the  '  Transfiguration '  darted 
in  my  brain,  and  I  was  angry  at  my  own  tardiness :  away  I 
went  three  steps — the  '  Pietro  Martyre,'  too — four  :  Correggio's 
4  St.  Catherine  ' — five;  and,  breath 'ess,  1  came  to  the  top.  In 
an  instant  I  was  in,  and  left  Wi'kie  trotting  on  his  usual  pace. 
The  first  glance  at  the  whole  gallery  disappointed  me  !  So  far 
from  feeling  affected,  I  felt  quite  cool.  There  is  nothing  grand 
in  the  first  glance.  The  gal!ery  is  on  the  same  childish  prin- 
ciples as  their  gardens  and  their  palaces,  viz.,  inordinate 
length,  and  instead  of  looking  large,  it  looked  small,  and  had 
the  same  effect  on  the  mind  as  when  one  looks  through  the 
wrong  end  of  a  spy-glass. 

Frankly  I  tell  you  also,  the  '  Transfiguration  '  was  not  what 
I  had  expected  to  find  in  effect :  they  have  ruined  the  picture 
by  cleaning ;  but  it  is  only  the  effect  they  have  ruined,  for  the 
expressions  are  really  Eaphael's.  And  then  I  drank  till  my 
faculties  were  drowned.  There  is  a  '  Correggio  '  there  which 
no  language  in  Heaven  or  on  earth  can  do  justice  to.  It  is  a 
simple  subject ;  but  how  he  has  treated  it !    It  is  the  '  Alarriage 


272 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


of  St.  Catherine  ;'  Christ,  the  infant,  is  putting  the  ring  on  her 
finger  with  the  pouting  impotence  you  pee  in  children ;  St. 
Catherine  holds  out  her  hands  with  shrinking  modesty,  while 
the  Virgin  is  guiding  the  child  with  that  delicious  smile  of 
maternal  vanity  which  I  have  a  thousand  times  seen  in  nature, 
when  a  mother's  assistance  is  obliged  to  be  asked.  St.  John 
looks  over  with  an  expression  of  archness  and  beauty  that  is 
divine.  You  know  by  what  you  see  that  not  a  word  is  speaking, 
it  is  all  an  emanation  of  feeling  silently  lighting  their  features. 
It  is  just  one  of  those  transient  beauties  that  gleam  forth  for  a 
moment,  impress,  and  are  lost  for  ever.  Correggio  has  caught 
it,  and  realised  it,  and  kept  it  alive  with  a  power,  a  delicacy,  a 
nerve,  and  a  sweetness  as  if  his  imagination  had  been  one  per- 
petual lustre  of  angels'  smiles. 

When  I  see  you  I  must  talk  to  you.  I  can  only  say 
now  that  my  principles  of  art  have  had  a  complete  triumph 
in  Wilkie's  feelings,  and  so  they  will  in  all  who  visit  the 
Louvre. 

The  Eoyal  Library  is  a  perfect  forest  of  books.  Oh,  you 
dog,  if  you  were  in  Paris  you  would  die  of  surfeit  the  first  week  ! 
I  intend  to  go  to  all  the  libraries  so  to  be  able  to  give  you  a 
good  account,  and  to  collect  all  the  catalogues  I  can.  I  saw 
to-day  Michel  Angelo's  seal,  then  a  pair  of  globes  thirty  feet 
in  circumference,  and  several  other  things  I  will  tell  you  about 
on  my  return.  There  is  no  difficulty  of  entrance.  You  walk 
in,  sit  down,  and  order  away.  Come  to  Paris.  You  must  before 
you  finish  your  poem,  for  here  you  will  find  every  book,  manu- 
script, or  print,  that  will  assist  or  advance  you. 

At  every  step  in  Paris  a  thousand  associations  are  excited. 
IMighty  buildings,  begun  by  Buonaparte,  and  now  left.  Monu- 
ments of  a  passed-by-glory,  "  naked  subjects  to  the  weeping 
winds,"  unfinished  and  neglected  ;  and  churches,  remarkable  for 
revolutions,  murders,  and  bridges  for  revolutionary  fury  ;  streets 
for  one  thing,  buildings  for  another,  that  you  are  affected  when 
you  even  turn. 

I  could  not  help  observing  at  the  Louvre  the  slovenly  shop- 
keeping  look  of  my  honest  countrymen,  and  silently  thinking 
that  from  those  timid,  modest,  merchant-looking  men  had  pro- 
ceeded the  finest  model  of  human  government.  If  you  were  to 
see  them  in  contact  with  the  Russians,  Prussians,  or  Cossacks, 
you  would  not  take  them  for  the  heroes  of  the  world.  They 
looked  like  men  who  could  give  a  good  draft  on  their  bankers, 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


-11 


but  as  for  any  appearance  of  genius  or  heroism,  Heaven  help 
us ! 

The  French  are  most  horribly  "  down  in  the  mouth."  They 
cannot  conceal  it.  It  breaks  out  every  moment.  If  you  talk, 
out  come  politics,  and  after  acknowledging  that  we  are  the 
greatest  power  in  the  world,  which  they  always  do  at  the  com- 
mencement, and  at  the  conclusion  they  begin  to  cavil  about 
the  peace.  This  morning,  at  the  cafe,  you  would  have  enjoyed 
to  hear  a  Frenchman  and  a  John  Bull  argue.  They  could  both 
speak  each  other's  native  language,  but  not  well  enough,  if 
they  felt  warmly,  so  that  the  one  generally  concluded  in  furious 
English  and  the  other  in  French.    "  Mais  vous,  vous  avez 

pris  Malte  et  File  de  France  est-ce  juste  r"    "  Why,   , 

won't  you  give  us  something  after  fighting  twenty  years?" 
This  was  roared  out  in  a  French  cafe,  where  no  human  being 
under.-tood  him  but  his  antagonist.  You  can  have  no  notion 
of  the  ludicrous  effect. 

The  Theatre  Francais  is  a  beautiful  theatre,  and  the  actors 
very  good.  But  the  arrangements  so  different  from  Old  Eng- 
land. You  pay  outside,  with  a  gendarme  looking  over  you,  to 
a  woman  inside  a  grid.  No  noise,  no  fun ;  no  gods  amusing 
themselves  before  the  play  begins  ;  all  drilled  statues — silent, 
decent,  quiet,  snuff-taking  Frenchmen. 

Paris  is  a  filthy  hole,  and  the  Palais  Royal  a  perfect  Pande- 
monium in  the  midst  of  it.  You  and  all  my  friends  who  have 
never  left  England  can,  in  your  antediluvian  innocence  of  mind, 
form  no  notion  of  this  hall.  It  stands  in  the  midst  of  Paris, 
and  is  a  fine  enclosed  square,  the  alleys  full  of  shops,  the 
houses  of  gamesters  and  gambling-tables,  brothels,  &c.  After 
9  p.m.  never  was  there  such  a  scene  witnessed.  The  whole 
is  illuminated,  and  the  walks  and  gardens,  which  form  the 
centre  of  the  square,  full  of  depravity  and  villany — stuffed 
full — so  full  that  as  you  enter  you  feel  a  heated,  pestilential 
air  flush  your  cheeks.  The  unrestrained  obscenity  of  the 
language,  and  the  shocking  indecency  of  the  people,  bewilder 
and  distract  you.  Such  is  the  effect  and  the  power  of  this 
diabolical  place  that,  like  the  upas-tree  of  Java,  the  people  for 
a  mile  around  it  are  tinged  with  its  vice,  and  infected  by  its 
principles. 

I  have  been  to  the  Champ-de-Mars,  where  some  thousand 
Russians  had  been  bivouacked.    Certainly  their  conduct  had 
vol.  I.  T 


274 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


been  very  proper,  for  not  even  a  tree  had  been  injured.  You 
cannot  imagine  the  people's  ignorance  and  indifference  to  the 
one  who  rules  them.  They  know  nothing.  They  ask  you 
questions  that  make  you  stare.  In  everything  that  concerns 
politics  they  know  nothing,  and  seem  to  suffer  some  over- 
whelming influence  over  their  minds  that  they  ought  to  know 
nothing. 

I  saw  the  king  go  in  state  to  the  Corps  Legislatif,  and  the 
people  seemed  to  regard  it  all  as  a  mere  "  spectacle."  One 
pleasant  Frenchman  turned  round  to  me  and  said,  "It  was 
nothing  to  the  entry  of  the  Allies ! " 

Upon  the  whole,  Paris  has  the  look  of  being  the  residence 
of  a  despotic  monarch.  Everything  that  is  beautiful,  every- 
thing that  is  grand,  convenient,  or  salutary  is  near  or  in  the 
palace.  The  streets  are  dirty  and  miserable,  but  the  Square  of 
the  Tuileries  is  15  )0  feet,  therefore  the  people  ought  to  be 
happy  !  There  is  no  look  of  individual,  independent  comfort. 
Everything  seems  to  originate  and  to  conclude  with  the 
monarch.  All  is  vast  and  melancholy ;  for  to  me  their  Bar- 
thelmy  fairs,  and  their  childish  frippery,  where  they  have  such 
weighty  political  matters  to  deal  with,  are  simply  repulsive. 
I  look  upon  them  as  the  monkeys  of  a  showman,  which,  as  far 
as  their  chain  permits  them,  are  guilty  of  the  most  grotesque 
and  absurd  gesticulations,  and  then  look  terrified  whenever 
they  get  a  jerk. 

In  haste,  believe  me  ever  yours, 

My  dear  Hunt, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

To  John  Hunt. 

My  DEAR  HUNT,  Paris,  10th  June,  1814. 

I  wrote  your  brother  just  after  our  arrival,  and  told  him 
to  show  my  letter  to  you ;  so  that  you  will  have  had  a  correct 
journal  of  my  proceedings  to  the  moment  I  entered  Paris.  We 
passed  over  the  field  of  battle,  and  saw  very  little  remains  of  a 
tight,  except  the  Russian  batteries.  About  two  we  got  to  Paris, 
through  one  of  the  most  infernal  entrances,  I  think,  I  ever 
witnessed — St.  Giles's  is  an  Elysium  to  it.  The  gate  of  St.  Denis, 
built  by  Louis  XIV.,  is  at  the  end  of  the  street  we  came  through ; 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


275 


it  struck  me  as  being  high  and  grand,  but  the  bas-reliefs  in  a 
wretched  French  taste.  The  first  appearance  of  Paris,  to  one 
accustomed  to  the  streets  of  London,  is  a  feeling  of  unutterable 
confusion — houses,  horses, carriages,  carts;  men, women, children, 
and  soldiers  ;  Turks,  .Tews,  Christians,  Cossacks,  and  Russians,  all 
mingled  together,  without  comfort,  without  system,  in  dirt  and 
dreariness,  hot,  fatigued,  and  in  haste.  After  pushing  our  way- 
through  this  chaos  dire,  we  put  up  at  a  dirty  golden  hotel — 
gilt  this  and  gilt  that,  satin  beds  and  satin  sofas,  but  embalmed 
with  grease  and  worn  with  age.  Never  was  such  misery  as  an 
Englishman  suffers  at  first  from  the  mode  of  lodging  and  living 
in  Paris.  You  have  your  b  eakfast  from  one  place  and  your 
dinner  from  another;  who  is  the  master  or  where  the  mistress 
no  human  creature  can  tell.  We  got  lodgings  next  clay,  and 
were  extremely  lucky  to  fall  into  respectable  hands.  The 
Louvre,  of  course,  was  our  first  object,  and  by  the  next  day  we 
were  there.  The  first  sight  is  grand,  but  yet  I  was  disap- 
pointed ;  it  is  too  long  to  impress  one,  and  it  affected  me  (as  I 
have  mentioned  to  another  friend)  as  if  I  was  looking  through 
the  wrong  end  of  a  spy-glass.  The  '  Transfiguration '  is  a  proof 
that  had  Raphael  lived,  he  would  have  completed  all  the  re- 
quisites of  art.  It  is  powerfully  coloured,  and  in  many  parts 
will  bear  comparison  with  Titian.  The  expressions  distinctly 
tell  the  story,  they  really  speak  to  one's  soul ;  and  yet,  from 
forming,  in  my  own  imagination,  something  beyond  nature,  as 
we  always  do,  I  must  own  I  was  disappointed  at  its  first  im- 
pression. It  has  a  little  and  rather  an  insignificant  appear- 
ance, and  the  female  heads  are  certainly  not  beautiful.  In 
sweetness,  Correggio,  who  hangs  opposite,  is  very  much  superior 
— indeed  I  cannot  say  enough  of  the  works  of  this  divine 
painter.  There  is  a  magical,  a  trembling  sensitiveness;  he 
has  caught  all  those  fleeting,  delicate  expressions  which  you 
see  illumine  the  face  of  a  beautiful  woman  while  you  are  telling 
her  anything  peculiarly  interesting.  All  such  refinements  he 
has  caught  and  realized.  You  can  trace  nowhere  but  in  Nature 
any  remains  of  a  hint  from  others,  either  ancient  or  modern. 
He  felt  what  he  painted  in  his  own  way,  and  has  touched  a 
chord  which  every  other  being  had  passed  and  neglected.  His 
pictures  affected  me  like  the  strains  of  an  angel's  harp,  and 
have  all  the  loveliness  of  an  angel's  dream.  They  won't  permit 
us  to  copy  yet,  or  most  assure,  lly  I  should  do  my  best  to  bring 

t2 


276 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


home  something  of  this  man's  delightful  fancy.  Reynolds  had 
studied  him  well,  in  colour  and  in  expression,  and  his  whole  life 
was  spent  in  aiming  at  making  a  new  discovery  in  the  mad 
which  Correggio  had  opened.  The  statues  below  are  beautiful, 
but  I  can  assure  you  the  Elgin  '  Theseus'  is  superior  in  style 
and  in  principles  to  anything  in  this  superb  collection.  I 
have  spent  hours  there,  day  after  day,  and  shall  spend  hours 
yet  till  I  depart.  All  my  principles  of  art  are  confirmed 
by  the  practice  of  these  men,  and  I  hope  to  return  with  my 
mind  and  feelings  enlarged  after  having  seen  their  highest 
efforts. 

Wilkie  and  I  yesterday  spent  the  day  in  surveying  Mont- 
martre ;  and  from  the  top  of  the  telegraph  the  old  soldier  who 
has  the  direction  of  it  pointed  out  every  particular  of  the 
battle,  and  told  us  every  interesting  thing  before  it.  It  is 
amazingly  strong,  and  had  it  been  properly  defended  and  pro- 
perly fortified,  would  certainly  never  have  been  taken.  But 
all  was  confusion,  and  everything  done  in  terror  and  dismay. 
The  prospect  from  it  is  immense,  and  Paris  below  has  a  beauti- 
ful look,  with  its  intermingled  trees  and  gilded  domes,  though 
in  size  it  certainly  bore  no  comparison  with  London.  I  observe 
everywhere  old  soldiers  are  employed  where  the  duty  is  not 
difficult.  You  find  them  in  all  parts  of  Paris,  taking  money  at 
bridges,  &c,  and  nearly  everybody  has  served  in  some  way  or 
other.  Last  night  we  went  to  the  Theatre  Francais  to  see 
Talma,  and  were  very  much  entertained.  The  mob  at  the  door 
was  regulated  by  a  gendarme,  which,  though  disagreeable  to 
an  Englishman,  certainly  prevented  a  squeezing  and  confusion. 
[Here  follows  a  rough  pen-and-ink  sketch.]  This  is  something 
the  way  the  boxes  are  arranged,  and  they  certainly  have  a  fine 
and  picturesque  appearance.  The  audience  made  the  orchestra 
play  the  favourite  air,  "Vive  Henri  Quatre,'  and  received  it 
with  shouts  of  enthusiasm.  The  French  mob  possesses  great 
patience  and  goodnature.  They  bear  from  each  other  what  I 
am  sure  in  England  would  produce  the  most  furious  quarrels. 
The  manners  of  the  women  are  very  sweet,  but  they  soon  begin 
to  look  old,  and  the  children  have  the  appearance  of  being 
prematurely  formed  in  their  features.  The  race  of  men  is  cer- 
tainly smaller  than  ours ;  in  the  soldiers  it  is  particularly 
apparent.  All  the  old  soldiers  that  have  served  in  the  most 
celebrated  campaigns  are  active,  energetic,  little  fellows.  At 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


277 


the  Hotel  des  Invalides  I  met  an  old  soldier,  who  had  lost  his 
leg  at  the  battle  of  Marengo,  and  ir  juired  about  Buonaparte 
with  great  interest.  He  was  quietly  watching  the  departure  of 
a  body  of  Russians,  and  observed  to  me,  "  This  is  all  owing  to 
the  campaign  of  Moscow."  They  all  say,  "  He  was  a  great 
general,  a  great  genius,  but  a  bad  sovereign."  This  is  the  feel- 
ing in  every  quaiter.  The  artists  and  the  army,  being  those 
who  suffer  the  most,  are  of  course  the  most  outrageous  and  dis- 
affected ;  but  I  have  no  doubt  when  they  perceive  that  Louis 
is  as  likely  as  Buonaparte  to  protect  their  efforts,  lie  will  be  as 
great  a  patron  and  they  as  good  loyal  subjects  as  king  could 
wish.  We  have  seen  very  little  of  private  society.  Indeed, 
our  objects  being  entirely  different,  we  intend  to  avoid  all 
invitations.  Our  landlady  and  her  husband  are  temperate, 
frugal,  and  industrious.  They  seem,  like  all  the  middle  class; 
to  be  indifferent  who  governs  them  so  long  as  they  are  quiet. 
This  indifference  is  one  great  cause  of  their  sufferings.  Had 
the  people  felt  the  value  of  having  a  voice  in  public  matters, 
they  would  never  have  suffered  a  parcel  of  scoundrels  to 
torment  them  at  their  leisure.  They  know  hardly  any  events 
that  have  passed,  and  inquire  about  them  in  a  manner  betraying 
an  amount  of  ignorance  that  makes  me  stare.  Paris,  in  every 
way,  looks  like  the  residence  of  a  despotic  monarch,  and  the 
country  round  Paris  uncultivated  and  dreary.  From  the  top 
of  Montmaftre  the  villages  are  distinctly  seen ;  but  there  are 
no  straggling  houses  as  in  England,  giving  the  whole  a  social 
look.  Each  village  seemed  to  fear  the  other,  and  each  was 
suriounded  by  a  sort  of  wall  and  ditch.  In  one  road  I  saw  old 
chateaux,  but  dirty  and  neglected.  In  every  part  of  Paris  are 
traces  of  the  change  that  has  taken  place.  Great  buildings, 
begun  by  republicans  and  left  unfinished  when  they  lost  their 
power ;  palaces  and  temples  in  ruins,  though  but  half  built — 
monuments  of  Buonaparte's  ambition  and  fall.  The  most,  in- 
teresting exhibition — except  the  Louvre — is  that  of  monuments 
of  French  kings  and  great  men,  collected  and  saved  during  the 
Revolution  by  a  private  gentleman.  Here  are  monuments 
from  the  earliest  ages ;  here,  contained  in  sarcophagi,  are  the 
remains  of  Moliere,  La  Fontaine,  Boileau,  and  in  a  secret  grove 
that  of  Abelard  and  Heloi'se.  The  monuments  are  not  so  de- 
faced in  France  as  in  England,  and  the  people  have  evidently 
more  feeling  for  things  of  this  sort.    Paris  is  certainly  a  very 


27S 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


interesting  place,  and  you,  my  dear  Hunt,  woidd  derive  great 
pleasure  from  a  visit.  The  officers  I  contrive  to  bungle  out  a 
conversation  with,  all  talk  of  recovering  their  conquests  with- 
out the  least  hesitation,  when  the  country  has  had  a  little 
repose.  As  I  was  walking  by  the  Seine  on  Sunday  I  went 
accidentally  into  a  sort  of  open  house,  and  to  my  surprise  saw 
three  dead  bodies  lying  inside  a  sort  of  glasshouse  ;  here  they 
lie  till  they  are  owned,  as  I  found.  Women  and  children, 
playing  battledore  on  the  other  side,  when  the  shuttlecock  was 
down  would  quietly  walk  over  and  take  a  peep,  and  when  they 
had  satisfied  their  cuiiosity  resume  their  game,  repeating  the 
process  at  intervals.  I  must  own  I  never  was  so  shocked — such 
palpable  indifference  and  indecency.  If  this  be  not  a  way  to 
use  the  people  to  blood  I  know  none  more  effectual.  rJ  here  are 
no  squares  equal  to  ours  in  Paris — that  is,  public  squares.  The 
square  of  the  Tuileries  is  grand,  but  this  belongs  to  the 
monarch.  In  Paris  they  are  much  more  refined  than  in 
London  in  the  luxuries  and  comforts  of  gluttony,  but  in  clean- 
liness and  thorough  enjoyment  I  think  they  are  very  far  behind 
us,  and  certainly  are  nearly  altogether  ignorant  of  every  moral 
feeling.  The  people  in  the  coffee-houses  have  a  spirited  air, 
but  at  the  same  time  the  air  of  bravoes.  Something  I  heard 
this  morning  gave  me  a  complete  idea  of  their  military  notions. 
An  officer,  crossing  a  bridge  where  a  toll  was  taken,  was  stopped 
to  pay,  and  expressed  the  greatest  surprise  that  the  military 
should  have  to  do  so  as  well  as  others !  Adieu,  my  dear  Hunt. 
Kind  remembrances  to  your  wife  and  brother.  I  forgot  to  send 
him  my  direction,  which  you  can  now  give  him — No.  G,  Rue 
St.  Benoit,  Faubourg  St.  Germain,  Paris. 

Most  truly  and  affectionately  your  friend, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

To  Leigh  Hunt. 

My  DEAR  HUNT,  Paris,  20th  June,  1814. 

I  have  got  so  much  to  tell  you  that  I  do  not  know  how 
I  can  squeeze  it  all  into  one  sheet ;  however,  I  will  do  my  best. 
I  have  been  to  Versailles,  Rambouillet,  Malmaison,  and  St. 
Cloud.  I  have  been  to  the  Catacombs,  the  Jardin  dea  Plantes, 
Musee  Francais,  and  through  all  the  gaming-houses  of  the 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


2/9 


Palais  Boyal — such  scenes  as  you,  in  your  antediluvian  inno- 
cence of  mind  in  England,  can  never  conceive,  and  God  grant 
you  never  may  !  Fancy  whole  rooms  full  of  gamblers  ;  in  each 
room  a  table,  and  each  table  for  a  different  game.  You  can 
gamble  for  Napoleons  down  to  ten  sous ;  each  table  was  full,  from 
the  Napoleon  downwards.  All  eager,  silent,  anxious ;  intensely 
alive  to  the  slightest  motion  or  the  slightest  noise.  Young 
interesting  women  were  wandering  about,  losing  at  one  table, 
winning  at  another;  old  harassed  villains,  with  the  most 
polished  manners ;  and  worn-out,  ugly,  dirty,  dissipated 
dowagers,  smothered  in  ragged  lace,  and  buried  beneath  huge 
bonnets.  The  expressions  of  disappointment,  of  agonized  dis- 
appointment ;  of  piercing,  acute  abstraction  ;  of  cold,  dreaming 
vexation  ;  of  chuckling,  half-suppressed  triumph,  were  so  ap- 
parent that  no  man  could  mistake  what  was  passing  within  ;  and 
as  your  eye  wandered  round,  your  heart  sank  as  you  recognised 
the  thoughts  of  each.  They  all  looked  jaded,  fagged  creatures, 
whose  whole  lives  had  been  passed  in  the  perpetual  struggles  of 
opposite  passions.  There  was  about  them  a  dissipated  neglect 
which  marked  them.  The  only  sound  which  disturbed  the  dread- 
ful silence  of  the  scene  was  the  tinkling  of  the  money,  or  the 
smart  crack  of  the  stick  as  the  winner  jerked  it  towards  his 
heap. 

June  22nd. — Versailles  at  present  exhibits  a  most  melancholy 
appearance  of  ruined  splendour.  Painted  ceilings  faded ! 
Crimson  tapestry  torn,  and  golden  fringes  brown  with  age ! 
During  the  revolution  a  wing  was  occupied  by  the  soldiers,  and 
it  bears  miserable  proofs  of  their  cureless  inclination  to  destroy. 

The  Opera  House  is  vast,  ruinous,  and  dark.  The  Gardens 
formal,  to  my  feeling.  How  any  one  can  look  at  the  delicious 
gardens  of  Petit  Trianon,  a  l'Anglaise,  and  not  be  converted,  is 
to  me  extraordinary.  Petit  Trianon  was  fitted  up  most  luxu- 
riously for  Maria  Louisa,  but  she  never  resided  there.  Both 
Buonaparte  and  the  Empress  remained  at  Grand  Trianon.  The 
servants  who  showed  us  Grand  Trianon  said  that  they  began  to 
feel  the  blessings  of  repose :  during  Napoleon's  reign  they 
were  never  suffered  to  be  st  11  for  an  instant.  As  Wilkie  was 
fatigued,  I  set  off  by  myself  the  next  morning  to  Bambouillet, 
the  hunting-seat  of  the  kings  of  France.  It  is  an  old-fashioned 
building,  with  two  very  ancient  towers.  I  was  exceedingly 
affected  in  going  through  the  apartments  of  Maria  Louisa. 


2  8  o 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


Her  toilet-table  was  precisely  as  she  had  left  it  the  last  morning 
she  dressed  her  hair ;  her  bed-room  very  elegant,  and  by  the 
bed  stood  a  pianoforte,  which  I  touched.  Her  little  salon  de 
repos  was  close  to  her  dining-room,  and  it  appeared  snug  and 
refined  in  its  luxury.  The  old  man  who  showed  me  the 
rooms  said  the  Empress,  on  her  flight  here  from  Paris,  walked 
the  last  stage  with  her  child.  For  the  last  six  days  she  scarcely 
ate  anything,  wandered  about  the  grounds  in  melancholy 
silence.  When  her  departure  was  fixed  she  was  exceedingly 
afflicted.  The  old  man  said  she  was  very  amiable  and  of  sweet 
disposition.  I  passed  on  to  Buonaparte's  rooms,  which  were  also 
very  luxuriously  fitted  up.  His  salle-a-manger  was  elegant  for 
a  hunting-seat,  though  it  did  not  approach  that  at  Grand 
Trianon.  From  his  drawing-room  I  entered  a  twilight  room  of 
small  dimensions.  This  was  Napoleon's  private  secret  closet 
for  repose  and  reflection,  where  he  used  to  retire  when  ex- 
hausted, and  to  which  no  one  was  admitted  but  the  Empress. 
The  little  room  seemed  a  complete  illustration  of  the  mind  and 
feelings  of  this  extraordinary  man.  Opposite  the  window  was 
an  elegant  arch,  under  which  stood  a  most  luxurious  satin 
couch,  with  the  softest  pillows.  Bound  the  arch  were  painted 
in  gold  the  names  Austerlitz,  Marengo,  Friedland,  &c,  and 
down  the  sides  the  arms  of  all  the  states  tributary  to  France, 
with  groups  of  warlike  implements ;  and  "  N.  N.  N."  with 
laurel  crowned  the  head.  "When  Napoleon  lay  in  indolent 
seclusion  on  this  luxurious  couch,  he  was  reminded  of  con- 
quered monarchs  and  his  greatest  battles.  I  was  exceedingly 
interested,  and  felt  as  though  admitted  to  the  centre  of  his 
soul,  on  a  spot  where  his  demon  spirit  . had  yet  an  influence.  He 
could  never  have  risen  from  such  a  couch  but  with  a  mind  filled 
with  vast  designs,  fevered  blood,  and  his  brain  in  a  blaze. 
"Why,  I  thought,  might  he  not  have  resolved  in  this  tremendous 
silence  on  the  murder  of  P'Enghien,  on  the  gigantic  enterprise 
against  Bussia  ?  I  entered  into  the  secret  feelings  of  one  who 
was  first  the  admiration,  then  the  terror,  and  latterly  the 
detestation  of  the  world.  I  enjoyed  the  full  luxury  of  con- 
templation, and  my  conductor  did  not  interrupt  me  till  I 
recovered  my  perceptions.  The  English  garden  was  very  fine, 
and  the  canal  superbe  et  magnifique,  as  the  old  man  said ;  on  it 
was  a  large  elegant  boat,  in  which  Buonaparte  and  the  Empress 
used  to  sail.    In  a  room  at  the  top  of  the  old  tower  Francis  L 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


281 


died.  I  returned  to  Versailles,  and  set  off  next  morning  for 
Malmaison  and  St.  Cloud.  Poor  Josephine  was  dead,  so  we 
could  only  see  the  gallery,  in  which  were  some  extraordinary 
pictures  and  statues.  St.  Cloud  was  shut  up.  At  every  step 
in  France  you  meet  with  traces  of  the  gigantic  wars  that  have 
desolated  Europe.  There  is  scarcely  a  waiter  in  a  coffee-house, 
or  a  driver  of  a  fiacre  that  has  not  served  as  a  soldier,  been 
through  a  campaign,  or  been  wounded  in  a  battle.  On  my 
way'  to  Eambouillet  I  took  up  a  fine  youth,  only  nineteen, 
delicate  and  slender.  He  had  been  wounded  and  taken  by  the 
Russians,  stripped,  and  turned  off  to  find  his  way,  naked  and 
bleeding.  He  said  he  trembled,  and  could  hardly  hold  his 
musket,  seeing  all  his  companions  fall  around  him.  If  it  had 
not  been  for  Mme.  la  Duchesse  de  la  Moskowa  (Ney's  wife)  he 
must  have  died.  She  got  accommodation  for  him  and  several 
other  wounded  men,  obtained  his  discharge  when  better,  and 
gave  him  money  to  take  him  home.  He  left  Chartres  with 
sixty  youth-?,  all  of  whom  were  killed  but  himself.  "  If  Buona- 
parte had  remained  he  would  have  killed  all  mankind,  and 
then  made  war  upon  animals,"  said  the  boy.  Coming  back,  I 
met  a  dragoon  from  Spain.  The  coachman  of  the  voiture  had 
served  with  Moreau,  and  lost  three  fingers.  The  contradictory 
state  of  mind  of  the  people  is  strange.  They  denounce 
Buonaparte,  yet  glory  in  his  victories.  They  tell  you  of  his 
genius  and  execrate  his  government  in  the  same  breath. 
Talking  of  him  as  a  conqueror  they  fire  with  enthusiasm  ;  as  a 
monarch  they  ah  ithematize  him.  I  had  almost  forgotten  to 
mention  the  Jardin  des  Plantes,  an  immense  piece  of  ground 
devoted  to  flowers  of  all  countries:  and  spacious  enclosures 
where  beasts,  birds,  and  fish  from  every  clime  are  kept  as 
n;  arly  as  possible  in  their  native  manner.  There  is  something 
of  Roman  magnificence  in  all  this,  and  also  of  Roman  callous- 
ness to  human  suffering.  Last  year  a  bear  devoured  one  of  the 
keepers,  an  old  soldier.  In  England  the  bear  would  have  been 
shot,  and  subscriptions  raised  for  the  s  ildier's  widow  and 
children.  Here  they  called  the  b  jar  by  the  man's  name,  and 
made  a  caricature  of  the  scene.  I  have  been  told  of  it  re- 
peatedly as  a  good  joke.  There  is  an  immense  Museum  of 
lsatmal  History,  in  which  the  skeleton  of  every  animal  is  kept. 
I  have  also  visited  Voltaire's  house  at  Ferney ;  in  his  sitting- 
room  were  plans  of  the  Alps  and  Lake  of  Geneva,  and  it  was 


2.S2 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


full  of  portraits,  •  among  them  Milton  and  Franklin.  On  the 
other  side  hung  his  washerwoman  an  1  chimneysweeper,  with 
Pope  Clement  between  them  !  The  ballet  at  the  French  Opera 
is  much  superior  to  ours,  wonderfully  fine  and  graceful ;  but  the 
singing  miserable.  The  Italian  Opera  is  good  ;  they  do  not 
suffer  dancing  there.  I  have  seen  Denon,  and  found  him  a 
most  delightful  man.  I  have  been  to  Vineennes,  where 
D'Fnghien  was  shot,  and  have  investigated  every  atom  of  ihe 
field  of  baitle.  I  am  going  to  Fontainebleau  before  leaving 
Paris,  which  we  do  on  Saturday  week,  and  hope  to  see  your 
gracious  Majesty  about  the  5th.  Your  '  Masque,'  I  expect,  is 
finished  and  out,  and  succeeded,  I'm  sure.  I  have  met  with 
'  Paradis  Perdu ' — one  line  will  be  enough  for  you.  Hamlet  I 
have  seen — murder !  Two  fine  editions  of  Dante  and  Ariosto  I 
have  bought  for  you,  with  Dante's  private  Meditations.  If 
there  be  no  duty  they  will  all  be  only  21,  12s. — old  plates, 
curious  and  int  resting.  Eemember  me  affectionately  to  your 
brother  John,  to  your  Mrs.  Hunt,  and  his  Mrs.  Hunt,  also  your 
brother  Robert ;  to  Scott,  Barne«,  and  all  the  heroes.  I  am  con- 
vinced, my  di  ar  Hunt,  that  you  might  make  a  fine  article  on 
Buonaparte's  secret  clmet,  and  all  that  has  been  thought  of 
there.  There  he  revelled  in  di  earns  of  dominion  and  conquest, 
of  murder  and  blood  ;  and  when  his  mind  and  imagination  were 
fired  with  a  sort  of  gory,  gleaming  splendour,  perhaps  sent  for 
the  Empress  1 

Truly  and  affectionately  ytours, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

To  Leigh  Hunt. 

My  DEAR  HUNT,  Hastings.  29tli  September,  1S14. 

I  had  no  intention  of  writing  to  you,  as  I  feared  to 
strain  my  eyes,  having  resolved  to  do  nothing  that  would 
retard  their  recovery ;  and  knowing  that  you  would  excuse  me, 
and  not  think  it  unkind,  on  such  an  explanation.  Put,  my 
dear  fellow,  such  glorious  news  has  arrived  to  me  that  I'll 
write  you  if  I  get  blind  before  the  conclusion.  My  native 
town,  in  council  assembled,  has  voted  me  the  Freedom  of  the 
Borough,  as  a  mark  of  respect  for  the  powers  displayed  in  the 
'  Judgment  of  Solomon.'    You  asked  me  last  May  if  mine  was 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


283 


not  an  English  victory  ?  Let  me  ask  you  if  this  is  not  also  an 
English  honour?  An  honour,  not  from  family  interest  or  a 
corrupt  corporation,  but  from  a  Mayor  and  Commonally  who 
struggled  and  got  their  freedom  and  rights  about  ten  years 
since,  and  abolished  the  title  of  alderman  and  common  council- 
man because  they  were  not  mentioned  in  the  Charter  of 
Henry  VI.  Now  these  are  fine  fellows,  and  their  freedom  is 
worth  having ;  and  I  know,  my  dear  fellow,  you  will  sympa- 
thize with  me  completely  in  this  business. 

I  would  rather  have  this  honour  paid  me  than  be  elected 
President  of  all  the  Academies  of  Europe,  and  I  assure  you  I 
am  prouder  of  it  than  of  any  honours  acquired  by  sneaking, 
detestable  intrigue. 

You  shall  see  what  I'll  do  after  this,  God  give  me  my  eyes 
and  faculties.  How  are  you  after  all  this  preamble  ?  Do  you 
continue  well,  or  better,  or  what  ?  Do  let  me  hear.  Kind 
remembrances  to  Mrs.  Hunt  and  all.  I  have  used  constant 
and  violent  exercise,  and  am  certainly  wonderfully  better  in 
my  eyes.  I  hope  to  complete  my  recovery  before  I  return. 
God  bless  you,  my  dear  Hunt. 

Believe  me,  always  yours  affectionately, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

P.S.  Do  send  this  letter  to  your  brother,  who  will  be  as 
much  pleased  as  either  of  us.    How  goes  on  your  poem  ? 

Extract  from  a  Letter  of  Haydon  to  David  Wilkie. 

September,  1814. 

I  say  that  a  reference  to  the  best  models  of  art  tends 
to  strengthen  the  mind,  and  so  far  from  distracting  the  at- 
tention from  nature,  sends  you  to  it  with  more  acuteness, 
makes  you  observe  beauties  you  might  have  passed  unheeded, 
and  rouses  vour  energies  to  surpass  what  the  world  has  so  long 
praised. 

In  oppositiun  to  your  citing  Carlo  Marratti  and  Raphael 
Mengs  as  a  proof  that  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  best 
models  of  art  will  not  produce  great  artists,  permit  me  to  quote 
Michael  Angelo,  Raphael,  Titian,  and  Rubens,  to  prove  that  an 
intimate  acquaintance  will.    You  would  have  approached  the 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


truth  had  you  said  an  intimate  acquaintance  alone  would  never 
form  great  artists.  To  this  I  agree.  But  to  cite  Carlo 
Marratti  and  Raphael  Mengs,  two  men  of  decided  imbecility  of 
mind,  as  proofs  that  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  great  works 
will  not  produce  great  men,  is  not  taking  a  full  view  of 
the  case.  Would  they  have  been  great  men  without  such 
helps  ?  Would  they  have  been  as  great  without  such  helps  ? 
Certainly  not.  And  why  ?  Because  they  were  radically  without 
capacity.  Hence,  if  men  without  capacity  attained  some 
degree  of  excellence  by  studying  alone  the  works  of  others,  is 
it  not  just  to  conclude  that  men  with  great  capacity  would 
attain  a  high  degiee  of  excellence  by  proceeding  in  the  same 
road?  You  quote  Carlo  Marratti  and  Kaphael  Mengs,  men 
without  power  to  prove  that  it  can  produce  no  good  effect.  I 
quote  Michel  Angelo,  Raphael,  Titian,  and  Rubens  to  prove 
that  it  can.  There  is  not  one  of  those  but  was  benefited  by 
the  study  of  the  works  of  their  predecessors ;  there  is  not  one 
of  them  but  had  his  road  shortened  by  such  study,  that  had 
his  eyes  opened  to  new  beauties,  his  capacities  strengthened, 
his  views  enlarged,  and  his  enthusiasms  confirmed. 

Would  Michel  Angelo  have  gone  so  far  without  the  Torso, 
and  would  Raphael  without  the  antiquities  of  Rome  ?  Would 
Titian  without  the  works  of  Giorgioni  ?  Granting  that  Cor- 
reggio  and  Rembrandt  (the  names  that  occur  as  not  being 
indebted  to  others)  are  great  without  others'  assistance,  are 
they  as  great  as  Michel  Angelo  and  Raphael  ?  Do  they  excite 
the  same  feelings  as  to  enlargement  of  mind  ?  Though  never 
seeing  great  productions,  they  pursued  with  their  intense 
feeling  one  small  part.  Surely  these  are  the  sensations  these 
two  extraordinary  men  excite.  The  views  of  both  are  confined, 
and  without  that  infinite  variety  which  exhibits  a  large 
looking  out  on  the  world.  If  a  man  has  the  capacity,  know- 
ledge of  any  sort  can  never  injure  but  assist  him.  If  he  has 
not,  knowledge  will  enable  him  to  go  further  than  he  other- 
wise could  have  gone.  You  say  the  works  of  Carlo  Marratti 
and  Raphael  Mengs  contain  a  negation  of  every  excellence 
they  pretend  to  combine.  But  why  ?  From  their  want  of 
capacity,  or  from  their  studying  works  of  others  ? 

Believe  me,  ever  yours, 


B.  R.  Haydon. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


285 


From  Sir  W.  Calcott. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Kcns:ngton  Gravel  Pits,  30lh  April,  1815. 

I  beg  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  your  letter  contain- 
ing so  very  flattering  an  expression  of  your  approbation.  For 
the  general  comme  relation  bestowed  on  my  picture,  I  am  aware 
how  much  I  am  indebted  to  circumstances.  I  conceive,  also, 
that  my  professional  friends  are  induced,  from  the  same  cause, 
to  think  higher  of  it  than  it  really  deserves. 

When  I  allow  myself,  then,  to  say  that  I  accept,  with  the 
sincerest  pleasure,  the  eulogium  your  generous  feeling  has 
impelled  you  to  pronounce  on  this  production,  I  do  so,  not 
from  any  idea  that  I  merit  such  praise,  but  from  the  sense 
that  I  shall  by  these  means  be  entitled  to  participate,  in  some 
degree,  in  the  honour  which  such  sentiments  as  dictated  this 
letter  confer  upon  yourself. 

I  am,  yours  most  truly, 

A.  W.  Calcott. 

To  Leigh  Hunt  on  the  vote  of  500,000Z.  for  a  Waterloo 
Monument* 

My  dear  Hunt,  5th  July,  isi-5. 

I  have  not  lately  called  on  any  of  my  friends ;  I  have 
been  so  occupied  and  fatigued  towards  evening. 

I  am  sure  it  is  a  most  extraordinary  thing,  you  will  agree 
with  me,  that  in  all  these  monuments  and  pillars,  neither 
mayor,  minister,  nor  prince  has  said  a  word  about  painting. 
There  seems  to  be  really  an  infatuated  blindness  as  to  its  value 
and  importance.  No  captain  of  a  twenty-gun  frigate  is  killed 
but  monuments  are  voted  with  profusion.  Sculptors  and 
architects  have  the  stimulus  of  being  employed  by  Parliament, 
but  the  rank  of  historical  painting  is  certainly  owing  to  the 

*  It  is  worthy  of  note  that  on  the  Government  applying  by  letter  to  the  Royal 
Academy,  as  the  constituted  authority  in  art,  for  their  advice  and  assistam  e  in 
raising  this  proposed  national  monument  in  honour  of  Waterloo,  the  Royal 
Academy,  on  the  advice  of  Sir  Martin  (then  Mr.)  Sliee.  took  no  notice  of  tl  o 
application.  Lord  Castlereagh  was  so  wounded  at  this  indifference  to  his 
propo-al  that  he  quashed  the  whole  scheme,  and  thus  the  greatest  opportunity 
that  had  occurred  since  the  days  of  the  Plantagenets  for  the  union  of  painting  and 
sculpture  with  architecture,  in  public  decoration,  was  designedly  lost  by  the 
ruffled  spite  of  the  Royal  Academy,  which  owed  the  Treasuiy  an  old  grudge,  and 
thus  gratified  it. — Ed. 


2  85 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


devotion  of  its  professors,  independent  and  in  spite  of  neglect 
and  opposition.  Now,  my  dear  Hnnt,  one  word  from  you  in 
your  Political  Article  will  do  more  good  than  any  separate 
allusion  or  Fine  Arts  paragraph.  You  have  often  done  this, 
and  I  have  felt,  and  ever  shall  feel,  keenly  such  assistance  to 
my  noble  department.  If  possible,  do  it  again  at  this  critical 
moment ;  do  say,  surely  the  Historical  Painters  of  the  country 
may  justly  complain  when  Architecture  and  Sculpture  have 
such  unjust  preference.  Theij  are  certainly  adapted  for  exposed 
situations,  but  let  pictures  adorn  the  protected  ones.  They  are 
going  to  imitate  Greece  in  engraving  the  names — let  them 
imitate  her  also  in  voting  grand  pictures.  Barry  adorned  the 
Adelphi /or  nothing;  Hogarth,  the  Foundling  for  nothing ;  and 
for  nothing  did  Keynolds  and  West  offer  to  adorn  St.  Paul's, 
such  was  their  feeling  for  their  country's  reputation  ;  and  yet 
they  were  refused — even  such  an  offer !  Mind,  my  dear  Hunt, 
I  don't  complain  of  these  difficulties  ;  he  is  not  the  Man  who 
would  not  head  a  tide  fifty  times  as  furious.  I  only  wish  to 
impress  you  with  an  idea  that  if  so  much  has  been  done  with 
so  little,  more  would  most  assuredly  be  attained  with  greater 
protection.  If  the  country  has  been  rescued  from  the  stigma 
of  incapacity  by  the  innate  vigour  of  its  artists,  it  only  wants 
the  assistance  of  the  State  completely  to  establish  its  preten- 
sions in  the  face  of  the  world.  It  is  in  your  power  to  assist  our 
great  object,  my  dear  Hunt.  You  have  done  great  things  for 
us — greater,  indeed,  than  any  other  political  writer  before 
you ;  don't  forget  us  at  this  moment  of  enthusiasm,  and  you 
will  have  still  greater  claims,  if  possible,  on  my  heart  than 
ever. 

Yours  always, 

B.  B.  Haydost. 

Extract  from  a  Letter  from  John  Scott. 

July,  1815  [after  the  battle  of  Waterloo], 

The  appearance  of  Brussels  after  the  Battle  of  Waterloo 
is  most  interesting.  The  streets  are  crowded  with  English- 
men who  have  been  "  in  the  jaws  "  of  death,  all  bearing  about 
them  the  hurts  they  had  received  in  the  terrible  conflict. 
Many  of  them,  fine  young  men,  using  crutches,  or  with  arms  in 
slings,  strutting  nevertheless  with  a  gallant  coxcombical  air, 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


287 


suggesting  the  excessive  versatility  and  variety  of  human 
nature.  It  was  but  the  other  clay  they  were  in  the  heart  of 
the  battle,  black  with  powder  and  perspiration,  fierce,  bleed- 
ing, groaning,  dying.  Now,  they  are  out  on  a  fine  day,  in  a 
gay  park — after  much  careful  preparation  at  their  toilette- 
eyeing  the  pretty  girls,  and  casting  complacent  looks  at  the 
symmetry  of  their  legs. 

Brussels  appears  like  a  machine  thrown  out  of  gear.  All  the 
regular  and  domestic  habits  of  the  place  are  put  to  rest  for  the 
time  being.  Nor  is  the  virtue  of  the  place  increased  by  the 
presence  of  our  troops.  A  constant  amatory  parade  up  and 
down  goes  on  in  the  streets  and  parks.  The  convalescent 
officers  have  but  one  pursuit ;  and  the  women  of  Brussels,  high 
and  low,  married  and  single,  are  abundantly  susceptible. 

The  place  is  in  a  perpetual  throng  of  English,  Scotch,  Prus- 
sians, Belgians — officers  and  privates — all  free  of  constraint, 
all  gay,  dissipated,  and  careless.  The  English  are  highly 
spoken  of,  and  the  Scotch  more  highly.  The  Prussians  are 
universally  execrated. 

I  found  my  friend  Logan  mending  slowly  of  his  wound,  and 
on  Friday  I  set  off  with  him  for  the  field  of  battle  ;  and  glad 
I  was  that  I  had  a  companion  with  me  who  had  been  something 
more  than  a  spectator  of  the  battle.  I  was  glad  of  this,  for 
such  is  the  crowding  of  the  English,  such  their  simplicity  or 
their  curiosity,  and  the  extravagance  with  which  they  pur- 
chase all  or  any  relics,  that  I  found  the  Belgians  very  much 
inclined  to  laugh  at  their  visitors. 

It  was  with  deep  feelings  of  interest  that  I  heard  my  companion 
point  out  to  me  where  he  rested  in  the  Forest  of  Soignies  on 
his  march  to  the  field ;  where  he  saw  the  Duke  pass ;  where 
the  artillery  defiled,  &c.  All  was  deeply  interesting ;  but  of 
the  actual  battle  I  could  glean  but  little  or  nothing.  He  saw 
nothing  but  was  before  him.  When  we  came  to  the  village  of 
Waterloo  every  inn  had  chaises,  gigs,  fiacres,  cabriolets,  and 
carriages  crowded  round  its  door,  just  as  you  see  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  a  horse-race  or  boxing-match.  Luncheons,  din- 
ners, drinking,  at  every  public-house.  I  supposed  Waterloo 
was  close  to  the  field,  but  it  is  not.  The  Duke's  head-quarters 
were  there,  but  you  advance  from  Waterloo  a  mile  before  you 
arrive  at  the  village  of  Mont  St.  Jean,  a  much  smaller  place, 
about  half  a  mile  in  front  of  which  the  battle  was  fought.  On 


2  88 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


the  field  I  found  a  twelve-pound  shot,  which  had  plunged  from 
our  guns  into  the  heart  of  the  French  lines.  This  trophy  I 
carried  with  me  for  five  or  six  miles  in  a  blazing  day,  and  I 
mean  to  bring  it  home,  with  the  cuirass  and  other  spoils  of 
battle  which  I  have  secured.  I  postpone  what  I  have  to  say 
about  the  field  till  my  next. 

I  am,  dear  Haydon,  ever  yours, 

John  Scott. 

From  his  Sister,  Mrs.  Haviland. 

Plymouth,  2nd  August,  1S15. 

On  Friday  I  went  out  to  see  Buonaparte,  but  the  guard 
boats  kept  us  at  such  a  great  distance  I  was  rather  disap- 
pointed, as  it  was  impossible  to  clearly  distinguish  his  features. 
He  seems  a  good  figure  and  dignified ;  and  to  the  disgrace  of 
the  Plymouthians  be  it  said,  yesterday,  as  he  withdrew,  the 
people  rose  up  in  their  boats  and  applauded  him. 

There  is  so  much  that  is  mysterious  and  prepossessing  about 
him,  and  now  in  his  great  misfortunes  so  much  pity  is  felt, 
that  it  is  dangerous,  I  think,  to  the  loyalty  of  the  people  to 
keep  him  here  long ;  they  all  seem  fascinated.  Napoleon  has 
a  large  stomach,  though  not  otherwise  fat.  He  walks  the 
deck  between  five  and  six. 

h.  n. 

From  Sir  George  Beaumont. 
My  dear  Sir,  1st  July,  I8i5. 

I  go  on  Monday,  and  cannot  quit  London  without 
leaving  with  you  my  best  wishes  for  your  success  and  happi- 
ness. I  am  confident  you  will  pardon  what  I  am  about  to  say, 
and,  whether  you  agree  with  me  or  not,  you  will  give  me  full 
credit  for  my  motives. 

As  your  sincere  well-wisher,  I  earnestly  request  you  to 
abstain  from  writing,  except  upon  broad  and  general  subjects 
chiefly  allusive  to  your  art.  If  any  severe  or  unjust  remarks  are 
made  upon  you  or  your  works,  paint  them  down.  You  can.  l!ut 
if  you  retort  in  words  action  will  produce  re-action,  and  your 
whole  remaining  life  be  one  scene  of  pernicious  contention. 
Your   mind,   which  should  be  "  a  mansion   for  all  lovely 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


289 


thoughts,"  will  be  for  ever  disturbed  by  anger  and  sarcastic 
movements,  and  never  in  a  state  to  enable  you  to  sit  down  to 
your  easel  with  that  composed  dignity  your  "  high  calling " 
demands. 

Excuse  me,  however,  for  now  I  recollect  you  told  me  you 
were  become  sensible  of  this  error. 

I  leave  London  on  Monday,  but  if  you  wish  to  see  me  again 
I  shall  be  at  breakfast  to-morrow  at  nine,  and  glad  of  your 
company. 

I  remain,  with  my  good  wish,  and  many,  yours, 

G.  Bkaumont. 

To  Sir  George  Beaumont. 

My  dear  Sir  Geoege,  5th  July. 

I  thank  you  very  sincerely  for  your  advice.  It  is  what 
I  had  long  since  resolved  on.  Since  my  attack  on  the  Royal 
Academy  (which  I  shall  glory  in  to  the  day  of  my  death)  I 
have  never  written  one  line  in  attack.  The  cause  of  my  doing 
that  was  sincere  disgust  at  seeing  such  means  of  improving 
the  public  taste  so  grossly  perverted.  I  have  long  since  been 
thoroughly  convinced  that  to  paint  my  way  to  my  great  object 
is  my  only  plan,  and  to  which  I  will  firmly  adhere  till,  under 
God's  protection,  1  attain  it. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Sir  George, 

Your  faithful  servant, 
B.  R.  Haydon. 


From  Sir  George  Beaumont. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Cole-Orton,  19th  July. 

I  felt  sure  you  would  consider  what  I  took  the  liberty  to 
say  in  the  light  it  was  intended.  Indeed  1  have  no  fear  for  you 
except  on  account  of  the  warmth  of  your  temper,  which,  with- 
out proper  attention,  may,  with  the  best  and  most  generous 
motives,  lead  you  into  situations  which  will  disturb  the  tran- 
quillity of  your  mind  and  unfit  you  to  pursue,  at  least  with 
comfort,  the  great  object  you  have  in  view. 

Should  you  write  within  a  fortnight,  you  may  address  to  mo 
at  Wordsworth's,  Rydal  Mount.    On  Monday  I  set  off.  I  have 

VOL.  I.  u 


2-p 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


not  seen  a  mountain  these  seven  years,  and  you  may  imagine 
with  what  pleasure  I  look  forward  towards  ranging  among 
them  with  such  a  worshipper  of  nature  as  Wm.  Wordsworth. 
Success  to  your  exertions. 

Ever  truly  yours, 

G.  Beaumont. 

From  Sir  George  Beaumont. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Cole-Orfon,  13th  November,  1S15. 

I  also  have  been  contemplating  the  beauties  of  the 
ocean  with  infinite  delight.  The  great  elevation  of  Mulgrave 
(Castle)  gives  you  the  advantage  of  an  expansive  view,  and  the 
sea  being  broad  on  that  part  of  the  coast  the  waves  roll  in 
with  impressive  grandeur.  I  also  have  remarked  its  various 
lines,  its  freshness,  its  green,  cerulean,  and  purple  tints ;  and  I 
agree  with  you  that  Vandervelde  confined  himself  to  two  or 
three  effects,  but  in  those  he  is  admirable.  Perhaps  he  thought 
it  better  to  carry  home  that  which  he  thought  best  adapted  to 
his  art,  or  at  any  rate  that  which  he  felt  most,  than  to  dissi- 
pate his  powers  in  attempting  the  infinite  varieties  of  nature. 
Indeed,  it  may  be  observed  that  most  of  the  Old  Masters  have 
limited  themselves  to  few  effects.  Claude  painted  scarce  any- 
thing but  mornings  and  evenings,  and  indeed  almost  always 
the  same  subject  with  variations.  Salvator  repeats  himself 
continually.  Teniers  and  Ostade  paint  the  same  faces  and 
the  same  subjects  for  ever ;  and,  although  I  do  not  say  they 
are  to  be  followed  in  this  respect,  yet  it  may  be  well  to  con- 
sider whether  we  are  not  in  some  measure  indebted  to  this 
practice  for  the  great  excellence  of  their  works.  An  artist 
should  carefully  consider  his  quantity  of  power,  and  what  suits 
his  genius  best,  before  he  attempts  too  great  a  range,  since  it 
is  certainly  better  to  carry  a  few  effects  to  perfection  than  to 
produce  thousands  of  moderate  performances.  Too  great 
sacrifice,  however,  should  not  be  made.  Who  would  wish 
Wilkie,  for  example,  to  confine  himself  to  half-a-dozen  charac- 
ters ?  Double  the  execution  and  colouring  of  Teniers,  or  even 
of  Ostade,  would  be  a  poor  amend  for  such  a  loss. 

I  am  glad  he  is  with  you ;  the  sea  air  will  do  him  good. 
My  best  regards  to  him,  for,  super-added  to  my  value  for  him 
as  a  man,  I  consider  him  as  an  honour  to  the  country.  I 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


291 


delight  in  youi  enthusiasm ;  too  much  cannot  be  said  in 
honour  of  your  art,  and  the  glory  it  has  lately  received  in  a 
neighbouring  country  gives  me  the  greatest  pleasure.  In  one 
thing,  however,  I  must  a  little  differ  from  you. 

You  do  not  wish  our  country  to  accumulate  such  works  as 
those  in  the  Louvre  ?  Nor  I,  either,  if  it  must  be  at  the 
expense  of  honesty,  or  exclude  encouragement  to  our  native 
talent.  Heaven  forbid  !  However,  I  know  we  shall  agree  on 
this  point  when  we  come  to  an  explanation. 

it  seems  to  me  that  the  arts  of  a  country  are  never  in 
greater  danger  of  deterioration  than  when  they  have  made 
considerable  progress  towards  perfection.  It  is  very  well  known 
that  when  they  have  been  carried  as  far,  or  nearly  so,  as  human 
capacity  will  allow,  they  have  at  all  times  begun  to  degene- 
rate. The  reason  is  plain.  The  rising  generation  find  it 
impracticable  to  excel  their  predecessors  by  following  the 
principles  of  their  art,  and  they  fly  off  to  every  specious  fancy 
which  promises  to  procure  popularity.  Then  it  is  that  men 
of  genius  should  be  watched  with  a  jealous  eye,  for  their 
examples  are  destruction  ;  and  if  once  a  false  taste,  set  off  by 
great  power  of  misled  genius,  gains  ground  in  a  country,  adieu 
to  all  hope  of  recovery  :  the  case  is  mortal ! 

Now  it  appears  to  me  that  nothing  is  more  likely  to  prevent 
this  evil  than  a  collection  of  such  acknowledged  merit  that  it 
may  be  appealed  to  as  the  standard  of  truth  on  all  occasions, 
and  although  it  must  be  allowed  the  best  things  bear  strong 
marks  of  the  imperfection  of  human  nature,  yet  the  works  to 
which  you  allude  are  so  excellent  they  may  be  safely  had 
recourse  to  as  models  until  they  are  surpassed.  And,  as  I 
believe  the  principles  on  which  they  have  boen  produced  have 
never  been  questioned,  the  best  chance  of  surpassing  them  is 
by  following  the  road,  without  "servilely  treading"  in  the 
footsteps  of  their  authors. 

I  do  not  say  this  to  you  as  a  warning ;  you  are  really  a  true 
votary  of  legitimate  art.  But  I  shall  tire  you.  Meanwhile 
will  you  call  upon  Mr.  Alston,  and  let  me  know  how  you  like 
the  picture  he  is  painting  for  me.  You  see,  by  this  request,  I 
think  you  are  above  all  little  jealousies.  Were  I  not  convinced 
of  that,  my  hopes  would  not  be  so  sanguine. 

Ever  sincerely  yours, 

G.  Beaumont. 
u  2 


292      .  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

From  Sir  Geoege  Beaumont. 

My  DEATt  SlT?,  Cole-Orton,  3rd  December,  1S15. 

Your  account  of  Canova  is  very  interesting.  I  am  very 
sorry  I  shall  not  see  him  whilst  he  stays.  I  congratulate  you 
upon  his  approbation  of  your  picture.  The  praise  of  such  a 
man  is  valuable,  for  from  the  few  of  his  works  which  I  have 
seen,  I  should  suppose  him  to  be  a  man  of  extraordinary 
powers. 

I  comply  with  your  request  with  some  concern,  not  that  I 
have  no  pleasure  in  accommodating  you,  but  because  I  feel 
truly  sorry  to  find  that  it  is  necessary  for  you  to  forestall  too 
much  one  of  the  stimuli  which  should  be  in  reserve  to  encourage 
you  in  the  progress  of  your  work.  Will  you  forgive  me  if  I 
enter  a  little  into  the  subject  on  this  occasion?  1  admire  your 
enthusiasm,  and  entirely  Approve  of  your  making  profit  an 
inferior  consideration.  But  still  it  is  necessary  for  your  peace 
of  mind  that  profit  should  be  taken  into  <  onsideration,  and 
although  you  are  not  oppressed  by  pecuniary  difficulties,  they 
must,  as  you  say,  harass  and  disturb  your  mind. 

The  gentlemen  of  this  country  are,  I  verily  believe,  anxious 
to  forward  the  arts,  at  least  as  far  as  I  can  judge  from  their 
expressions,  they  have  them  much  at  heart.  But  their 
powers  are  limited,  for  they  have  neither  houses  to  receive, 
nor  money  to  spare  for  such  works  as  you  have  in  con- 
templation. It  seems,  therefore,  to  me  that  it  is  absolutely 
necessary,  if  you  wish  to  enable  yourself  to  indulge  your 
most  laudable  ambition,  that  you  should  sacrifice  some  portion 
of  your  time  to  work  which  may  afford  immediate  profit. 
Both  Raphael  and  Titian,  as  well  as  other  great  painters, 
occasionally  painted  portraits ;  and  indeed  when  you  con- 
sider how  intensely  you  must  study  nature  and  character 
to  paint  portraits  as  they  ought  to  be  painted,  as  well  as  the 
dignity  and  interest  you  would  be  enabled  to  give  them,  you 
e  mid  not  consider  it  as  time  lost.  Suppose  now  you  were  to 
give  two  mornings  in  a  week  to  this  study.  I  really  think 
you  would  forward  yourself  in  art,  and  enable  yourself  to 
proceed  in  comfort. 

At  any  rate  I  am  persuaded  you  will  impute  this  liberty  to 
ts  real  motive,  and  if  any  more  feasible  plan  occurs  to  you 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON.  293 

I  am  siire  you  would  eudeavour  to  forward  it  as  mucli  as 
possible. 

Lady  Beaumont  desires  her  kind  compliments. 

I  am,  my  dear  sir,  most  truly, 
G.  Beaumont.* 

To  Canova. 

41,  Great  Marlborough  Street  London, 
4th  December,  1S15. 

Honour  me,  my  dear  sir,  before  you  leave  England  by 
accepting  and  keeping  this  Milton  in  remembrance  of  my 
admiration  and  respect. 

Do  not  hesitate,  and  I  promise  you  that  I  will  render  myself 
worthy  of  such  a  compliment  by  my  future  exertions  in  my 
art. 

With  every  wish  for  your  happiness  and  long  life, 

Believe  me  your  affectionate  and  faithful  servant, 
B.  R.  Hay  don. 

From  Canova. 

SJGNORE,  Londra,  5  Xbre,  1815. 

Ella  mi  previene  con  una  benevolenza  insigne  della 
quale  avrb  perpetua  memor'a  grata.  Accetto  il  gradito  dono 
del  Milton  de  che  Ella  vuole  onorarmi ;  e  benche  non  conosca 
in  me  ninguno  merito  sufficiente  a  cagionare  tanta  di  Lei  cortesia 
per  me,  pene  conoscendola  figlia  d'  un  animo  sommamente 
gentile,  non  la  ricuso:  anzi  Le  sono  grato,  e  avrb  sempre  vivo  il 
desiderio  di  mostrarle  col  fatto  quanta  che  sia  la  mia  sincera 
riconoscenza.  Intanto  accogla  i  miei  voti  e  l'obbligo  contratto 
con  me  stesso  di  amare  e  stimare  una  persona  che  tanta  affezione 
me  dimostra ;  duolmi  ch'  il  tempo  ristretto  non  mi  permetta  di 
piu  rivederla  per  questa  volta;  ma  spero  si  verifieara  il  suo 
venire  in  Italia,  e  allora  saro  in  caso  forse  di  riconoscere  delle 
mie  obbligazioni.    Sono  con  larga,  viva  stima, 

II  di  Lei  obbediente  servitore, 

Antonio  Canova. 


Haydon  has  endorsed  this  letter  with  "  Very,  very  kind."— Ed. 


294 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  Sir  Geokge  Beaumont. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Cole-Orton,  26ih  December,  1815. 

It  is  impossible  not  to  be  interested  for  such  determined 
zeal  as  appears  in  your  letter.  I  am  far  from  wishing  to  confine 
you  to  small  historical  pictures,  and  far  less  to  portraits  any 
further  than  might  be  necessary  to  your  comfort,  and  I  really 
thought  there  was  time  enough  for  both :  you  are  of  a  different 
opinion,  and  I  have  done.  Still  I  have  the  desire  to  submit  a 
few  observations  for  your  consideration.  Nature  rarely  favours 
the  same  man  with  a  warm  imagination  and  a  cool  head. 
When  she  does,  a  prolific  painter  or  poet  is  produced.  Now 
she  has  mounted  you  upon  a  fiery  courser  who,  with  skilful 
management,  will  carry  you  nobly  over  the  field,  but  you  must 
abstain  from  whip  and  spur,  and  apply  the  curb  with  all  your 
dexterity,  and  then  the  race  is  your  own.  In  a  word,  if  on  a 
fair  examination  of  your  disposition  you  find  that  warmth  has 
rather  the  ascendency !  against  that  fort  you  must  plant  your 
battery.  Marcus  Antonius,  I  think,  used  to  thank  the  gods 
daily  that  he  was  not  born  with  an  eager  mind ;  of  course, 
judging  that  such  men  were  apt  to  overshoot  the  mark.  My 
mind  figures  to  me  Eaphael  and  Michel  Angelo,  especially  the 
former,  sitting  down  to  his  work  with  all  the  calmness  of  a 
philosopher;  and  I  am  convinced  it  was  the  temperate  dispo- 
sition Avhich  enabled  him  to  fill  the  world  with  magnificent 
pictures  before  he  was  thirty-seven.  All  the  genius  that  ever 
inspired  a  man  must  be  checked,  if  not  totally  impeded,  by  too 
great  anxiety.  Let  me  then  entreat  you  to  calm  your  mind 
by  every  means  in  your  power.  Abstain  if  possible  from  all 
controversies,  or  from  anything  which  you  find  irritates  or 
harasses  your  feelings,  and  determine  to  do  everything  quietly 
and  with  composure,  and  if  you  can  obtain  this  victory  over 
your  disposition  you  will  proceed  not  only  with  greater  satis- 
faction, but  with  far  greater  facility  and  expedition. 

I  have  lately  met  with  a  book  which  has  been  of  the  greatest 
service  to  me,  as  I  am  sure  it  must  be  to  every  man  who  will 
read  it  with  attention.  It  is  an  essay  on  the  nature  and  im- 
portance of  self-knowledge,  written  by  John  Mason,  M.A.,  not 
the  poet.  It  is  a  small  volume,  and  may  soon  be  read.  It  is 
very  serious,  yet  there  is  no  fanaticism  in  it,  and  I  am  sure 
you  will  like  it.    I  shall  therefore  direct  my  bookseller  to 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


send  it  to  you  in  a  few  days,  and  I  request  you  will  keep  it 
for  my  sake. 

I  hope  there  will  be  nothing  in  this  letter  which  will  give 
you  a  moment's  uneasiness,  but  if  there  should  be,  I  entreat 
you  to  consider  it  as  a  wound  given  by  a  friendly  surgeon  with 
the  kindest  intention.  The  mind  of  an  artist  should  be  gentle, 
and  the  elements  so  mixed  in  him  that  the  ti-ue  balance  should 
be  preserved.  If  then  I  have  hit  upon  the  quality  which  pre- 
ponderates, you  know  your  remedy.  Adieu !  Success  attend 
all  your  exertions  I 

Ever  sincerely  yours, 

G.  Beaumont. 

To  Sir  George  Beaumont. 

My  DEAR  SlR  GEORGE,  London,  21st  January,  1816. 

I  received  your  kind  letter,  and  in  a  few  days  afterwards 
your  kind  present,  which  I  shall  estimate  and  keep  out  of 
regard  for  you,  not  from  any  high  opinion  I  entertain  of  tne 
talent  displayed  in  the  essay.  In  general  I  have  a  very  poor 
opinion  of  all  essays  that  tend  rather  to  make  a  man  distrust 
his  powers  than  depend  upon  them.  They  may  do  very  well 
for  the  commonest  capacities,  but  can  never  be  looked  on  with 
any  other  feeling  than  mild  commiseration  by  those — 

"  Whose  high  endeavours  aie  an  inward  light, 
To  make  the  path  before  them  always  bright." 

What  would  Nelson  have  said,  my  dear  Sir  George,  had 
such  an  essay  been  put  into  his  hands  as  he  was  entering 
Aboukir  Bay  to  fight  the  Battle  of  the  Nile  ?  Had  he  opened 
it  and  read  that  all  his  glorious  sayings  and  high  anticipations 
were  "  romance,"  the  "  wild  fire  of  the  animal  spirits,"  &c, 
what  would  he,  what  could  he  have  said  ?  Believe  me  there 
is  as  much  true  self-knowledge  in  a  consciousness  of  capacity, 
when  you  possess  it,  and  a  dependence  thereon,  as  in  a  de- 
sponding distrust  when  you  possess  it  not.  The  greater  part 
of  mankind  are  so  astounded  at  any  daring  attempt  that  they 
see  nothing  but  its  hazards,  and  imagine  he  that  dares  sees  no 
further  than  themselves.  They  know  not  that  the  greatest 
and  most  daring  minds,  with  the  highest  feeling  for  something 
higher  than  this  world,  have  a  thorough  perception  of  the 


296 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


imperfections  in  it,  and  set  about  realizing  their  plans  by  a 
cautious  investigation  of  all  the  means  requisite,  because  they 
well  know  the  means  must  be  human.  All  that  can  be  done 
is  to  leave  nothing  to  chance  but  what  must  be  so  left,  to 
anticipate  every  difficulty  that  can  be  anticipated,  and  to  trust 
the  result  to  the  natural  operation  of  the  means  employed. 
You  say,  Sir  George,  you  imagine  Raphael  and  Michel  Angelo 
s'tting  down  to  their  work  with  cool  heads,  and  by  saying  this 
in  a  letter  of  kind  advice,  you  of  course  mean  to  hold  it  up 
to  me  as  an  example,  and  one  Avhich,  it  follows,  you  think 
requisite.  Now,  my  dear  Sir  George,  those  who  know  me  best 
know  well  that  all  my  warmth  and  anxiety  and  zeal  never  led 
me  to  begin  to  paint  before  I  could  draw,  or  to  send  a  picture 
out  into  the  world  before  I  had  finished  it.  They  know  well 
that  when  I  began  the  art  I  was  at  an  age  to  relish  the 
luxuries  of  touch,  of  colour,  of  effect,  and  of  expression,  but 
that  I  curbed  my  burning  inclination  to  express  my  conceptions 
until  1  had  dissected  and  drawn  and  studied  at  the  drudgery 
of  the  means  for  two  years.  Was  I  directed  by  any  authority 
to  do  this  ?  No.  I  was  ridiculed  and  laughed  at  for  doing  it. 
Surely  then  I  must  have  had  something  in  me  to  guide  me  on 
the  road,  something  that  borders  on  judgment  and  philosophy, 
something  that  could  anticipate  a  result,  or  have  a  keen  per- 
ception of  a  consequence. 

Fiery  ardour  and  burning  consciousness  are  first  the  exci- 
tants to  effort,  and  then  the  result  of  it.  Jn  the  first  instance 
they  support  the  spirit  in  the  anticipation  of  what  may  be  the 
consequence,  and  in  the  next  of  what  must  be.  The  world  in 
general  see  only  the  fire  and  flame  of  what  is  uttered,  and 
having  no  causes  for  similar  feelings  in  their  own  minds,  esti- 
mate such  feelings  as  the  dreams  of  a  distempered  imagination 
till  proof,  following  upon  prophecy,  teaches  the  wodd  not  always 
to  think  every  man  mad  who  has  other  and  higher  objects 
than  the  selfishness  of  individual  security. 

Pardon  my  egotism,  my  dear  Sir  George,  if  T  ask  whether 
you  think  had  I  been  frnpregnat  d  with  the  principles  of  the 
book  you  have  sent  I  should  have  borne  up  as  I  did  against 
the  tide;  that  at  one  time  set  so  strongly  against  me?  Could 
a  distrust  of  my  powers  have  urged  me  to  begin  a  picture 
larger  than  the  one  that  failed,  and  to  have  brought  the  world 
again  in  my  favour  ?  Perhaps  yon  know  the  '  Happy  Warrior  ?' 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


297 


In  that  sublime  sonnet  my  principles  are  breathed  in  every 
line — 

"  Who  is  the  Happy  Warrior  ?    Who  is  he 
Whom  every  man  in  arms  should  wish  to  be  ? 
It  is  the  generous  spirit,  who,  when  brought 
Among  the  tasks  of  real  life,  hath  wrought 
Upon  the  plan  that  pleased  his  childish  thought. 
Whose  high  endeavours  are  an  inward  light 
That  make  the  path  before  him  always  bright; 
Who,  with  a  natural  instinct  to  discern 
What  knowledge  can  perform,  is  diligent  to  learn. 

Who  comprehends  his  trust,  and  to  the  same 
Keeps  faithful  with  a  singleness  of  aim  ; 
And  therefore  does  not  stoop,  nor  lie  in  wait 
For  wealth,  or  honours,  or  for  worldly  state. 

Who,  whether  praise  of  him  must  walk  the  earth 
For  ever,  and  to  noble  deeds  give  birth, 
Or  he  must  go  to  dust  without  his  fame, 
And  leave  a  dead  unprofitable  name, 
Finds  comfort  in  himself  and  iu  his  cause." 

Oh  Wordsworth,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  express, the  delight 
I  have  experienced,  and  the  gratitude  I  feel  to  you  for  the 
effusions  of  your  sublime  spirit:  they  have  supported  and 
inspired  me  when  even  my  nature  tended  to  suspect  my 
enemies  might  be  right,  and  the  aspirations  of  my  heart  mere 
delusion !    They  have  indeed  never  failed  to  inspire — 

"  Faith  in  the  whispers  of  the  lonely  muse 
When  the  whole  world  seem  adverse  to  desert." 

No  man  can  feel  more  ecstasy  at  Raphael's  powers  than 
myself.  I  adore  him.  But  in  estimating  his  genius,  and 
remembering  his  works,  let  us  distinguish  what  was  owing  to 
nature  from  what  was  owing  to  opportunity.  He  entered  the 
Vatican  at  twenty-five  years  of  age  with  unlimited  control. 
Great  opportunities  were  given,  he  had  not  got  to  make  them 
for  himself  as  has  hitherto  been  the  case  in  England.  But  we 
are  bom  here  to  contend  with  what,  to  other  nations,  appear 
impossibilities.  Yet  in  spite  of  all  these  obstructions  we  will 
yet  shine  forth  to  the  wonder  of  Europe.  Many  of  Raphael's 
works  in  the  Vatican  were  carried  on  in  the  spirit  of  a  manu- 
factory, indeed  all  his  later  ones,  and  his  reputation  depends 
not  on  the  number  of  his  works,  but  on  the  quality  of  six  or 
seven  works  only.  Raphael  had  no  prejudices  to  combat.  His 
countrymen  were  prepared  to  receive  what  he  did,  and  hia 


298 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


patrons  to  employ  him  on  what  he  wished.  All  this  would 
have  been  useless,  of  course,  if  nature  had  not  given  him' 
genius ;  hut  I  am  showing  the  full  swing  his  genius  was 
allowed.  People  are  inclined  to  infer  dulness  of  invention 
from  slowness  in  completing  the  invention,  and  I  know  this 
suspicion  at  present  hangs  over  me,  but  time  shall  show. 
Time  has  shown  some  things  not  expected,  and  time  shall 
show  more  if  God  spare  my  eyes  and  life.  When  I  finished 
my  first  picture  then  it  was  "  very  well  for  a  first  picture," 
but  they  "  feared  "  I  was  not  equal  to  a  "  heroic  work."  Then 
when  '  Dentatus '  was  done,  "  to  be  sure  it  was  heroic,"  but  I  had 
"  no  eye  for  colour."  Then  when  I  put  out  '  Macbeth,'  "  Oh, 
yes,  there  was  an  eye  for  colour,  but  no  simplicity."  Then 
'Solomon'  was  completed,  but  as  I  had  taken  two  years  to 
paint  it,  I  was  not  "  rapid  or  prolific."  Now,  when  I  prove  I 
can  be  rapid  and  |  rolific  it  will  be  "a  pity  he  did  not  take  a 
little  longer  time."  It  makes  me  laugh.  The  art  of  painting, 
in  one  respect,  is  not  unlike  the  art  of  wa1*.  Everybody  thinks 
they  know  something  about  it,  but  it  is  a  very  difficult  art  for 
all  that.  My  dear  Sir  George,  excuse  this  long  letter,  and 
in  return  for  your  kind  present  honour  me  still  further  by 
accepting  one  from  me,  it  is  '  Foster's  Essay  on  Decision  of 
Character.'  It  has  been  my  guide  for  years,  and  it  is  written 
with  great  power.  I  hope  the  more  you  know  me  the  more  I 
shall  deserve  your  esteem :  indeed  I  will  try  to  deserve  it,  and 
so  with  my  kindest  respects  to  Lady  Beaumont 
Believe  me,  my  dear  Sir  George, 

Your  affectionate  and  obliged  servant, 

B.  R  Haydon. 

P.S. — With  respect  to  fertility  and  rapidity  I  think  higher 
of  intensity  and  perfection.  For  instance,  I  think  that  Oor- 
reggio  carried  what  he  did  to  a  higher  degree  than  Raphael. 

From  Sir  George  Beaumont. 

My  DEAR  SlB,  G>le-Orton  Hall  8th  February,  181G. 

I  am  very  sorry  to  see  my  letter  has  agitated  your 
feelings.  Be  assured  if  you  knew  my  opinion  of  your  talents 
(and  you  may  know  it  from  Mr.  Wordsworth  and  many  others), 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


299 


you  would  feel  no  reason  to  complain.  I  esteem  you  as  a  first- 
rate  and  gallant  vessel ;  but,  I  confess,  your  last  letter  but  one 
made  me  fear  you  carried  ratber  too  mucb  sail,  a  fault  easily 
repaired  if  I  was  right ;  and  I  tbougbt,  as  your  friend,  I  ougbt 
to  bint  tbis  to  you.  I  tbougbt  the  extreme  ardour  of  your 
disposition  prevented  your  pursuing  your  art  witb  that  placid 
composure  which,  if  not  essential  to  success,  certainly  contri- 
butes to  happiness  and  prevents  controversies  which  not  only 
present  obstacles  in  the  way  of  those  who  have  the  welfare  of 
you  and  your  cause  at  heart,  but  also  keep  your  own  mind  in  a 
perpetual  state  of  tumult  and  resentment.  You  tell  me  I  am 
mistaken,  and  I  have  done.  I  can  assure  you  that  zeal  for 
your  welfare  which  never  left  me,  even  in  the  time  of  our  un- 
lucky misunderstanding,  does  and  will  prevail,  and,  to  resume 
my  figure,  I  shall  hope  to  see  you  plough  your  way  to  the  port 
witb  a  dignified  and  a  steady  course,  unmindful  of  the  opposing 
waves  and  scorning  to  be  ruffled  by  them. 

As  to  the  book  I  took  the  liberty  of  sending  you,  I  did  not 
recommend  it  for  its  eloquence,  but  its  truth.  I  think  it  tho 
most  compendious  receipt  for  its  purpose  I  have  ever  met 
with.  To  have  put  it,  or  even  Foster's  essays,  into  the  hands 
of  Nelson  on  the  eve  of  the  Battle  of  Aboukir  would,  I  confess, 
have  been  ratber  mal  a  jpropos.  Yet,  I  think,  if  it  had  been 
presented  to  him  in  bis  cooler  moments  (and  he  would  have 
read  it),  it  could  not  have  made  him  a  braver  warrior,  but 
without  clamping  his  ardour  for  judicious  enterprise,  it  might 
possibly  have  made  him  a  wiser  man,  and  have  prevented  some 
indiscretions  which  every  Englishman  must  lament.  Observe, 
I  say,  if  be  would  have  fairly  considered  the  book,  and  brought 
it  to  the  test  of  practice,  for  a  man  who  has  never  carefully 
examined  his  heart  must  shrink  at  the  first  view  of  it.  It 
requires  no  common  resolution  to  pluck  out  an  eye  or  strike 
off  a  limb  with  your  own  hand;  and  if  on  examination  he 
found  the  necessary  operations  were  very  severe,  who  knows 
but  the  courage  of  Nelson  might  have  failed  him  ?  It  is  an 
arduous  task  to  encounter  our  prevailing  passions,  but  when 
once  achieved  every  further  undertaking  is  comparatively 
easy. 

I  have  received  Foster's  essays :  I  will  take  great  care  of 
the  book,  but  the  same  cause  which  has  prevented  my  writing 
sooner  has  prevented  my  reading  them,  viz.,  constant  occupa- 


3oo 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


tion.  When  I  come  to  town,  I  shall  hope  to  find  your  great 
work  finished,  and  yourself  in  high  spirits. 

I  am  ever  truly  yours, 

G.  Beaumont. 

From  Spurzheim. 
My  DEAE  SlR,  Wednesday  morning  (1815). 

I  was  out  when  your  letter  was  delivered.  I  therefore 
take  the  liberty  of  sending  you  the  cast  of  the  face  of  Voltaire. 

I  am,  dear  Sir,  yours  sincerely, 

Spurzheim. 

From  F.  Wybors. 

My  DEAR  HaydON,  Paris,  8th  March,  1816. 

I  thank  you  over  and  over  again  for  your  introduction 
to  Hayter,  whom  I  saw  very  often  during  the  week  of  the 
museum,  and  whose  talents  will,  I  am  sure,  do  honour  to  our 
little  island.  I  regretted  much  that  you  were  not  by,  to 
witness  the  havoc  and  the  unconcerned  manner  with  which  the 
Vandals  treated  (to  you  and  to  me)  the  most  sacred  objects. 
The  sufferings  of  some  of  the  first-rate  artists,  Girodet  and 
Gros,  &c,  were  really  affecting.  Nothing  but  the  contending 
feelings  of  triumph  as  an  Englishman  at  the  sight  of  this  most 
glorious  proof  of  our  country's  superiority  could  have  prevented 
my  sympathising  with  them.  I  was  enabled,  however,  by  the 
respect  held  for  talent,  to  check  any  open  expression  of  the 
delight  I  felt ;  but  I  recompensed  myself  for  those  momentary 
sacrifices  by  the  unrestrained  burst  of  my  sentiments  when 
alone,  or  in  the  society  of  the  English  diplomatists  and  artists. 
Amongst  the  former,  your  friend  William  Hamilton  deserves 
the  gratitude  of  every  Englishman  for  having  borne  without 
shrinking  the  odium  of  the  action,  in  common  with  the  Ihike 
of  Wellington,  in  the  minds  of  the  French.  I  hope  I  shall  sec 
you  in  France  this  summer.  I  have  taken  a  quondam  pleasure 
house  of  Louis  XV.  at  Montrouge  (about  one  mile  from  the 
Barriere  d'Enfer)  for  the  summer  months,  but  I  come  in 
regularly  three  times  a  week  to  the  sittings  of  the  Institute  ; 
therefore,  I  fear  I  shall  be  as  much  in  your  society  as  will,  I 
fear,  give  you  a  surfeit  of  me.  If  your  picture  will  be  done 
this  winter  I  shall  come  over  to  see  it ;  if  not,  I  think  I  shall  go 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


301 


to  Italy  for  the  winter.  God  bless  you,  my  dear  H. !  Bemember 
me  most  particularly  to  Wilkie.  Mr.  Lane  called  upon  me ; 
he  imitates,  or  endeavours  to  do  so,  your  manner  on  much  the 
same  grounds  the  Due  cle  Berri  does  that  of  Buonaparte,  and 
with  about  as  much  right !    Adieu  ! 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

F.  W'iTORN. 

Extract  of  a  Letter  from  David  Wilkie. 

]8th  August,  1816. 
Yesterday  morning  Lord  Lynedoch  (Sir  Thomas  Graham 
that  was)  called  upon  me,  and  said  that  if  I  should  be  at  home 
at  four  o'clock  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and  a  party  that  came 
to  meet  at  his  house  previous  to  that  would  then  call  on  me 
with  him.  Upon  this  information  I  set  to  work  for  the  rest  of 
the  day  to  get  my  rooms  put  to  rights,  put  all  my  pictures  in 
order  for  view,  and  last,  though  not  least,  had  to  arrange  it  so 
that  my  mother  and  sister  might  see  the  great  man  from  the 
parlour  windows  as  he  came  in. 

Matters  being  thus  settled,  we  waited  in  a  sort  of  breathless 
expectation  for  their  arrival,  and  at  half-past  four  they 
accordingly  came.  The  party  consisted  of  the  Duke  and 
Duchess  of  Bedford,  Lady  Argyle  and  another  lady,  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  and  Lord  Lynedoch,  to  all  of  which  the 
latter  introduced  me  as  they  came  in.  When  they  went  up- 
stairs they  were  first  occupied  in  looking  at  the  pictures 
severally,  but  without  entering  into  conversation  further  than 
by  expressing  a  general  approbation.  The  Duke,  on  whom 
my  attention  was  fixed,  seemed  pleased  with  them,  and  said 
in  his  firm  voice,  "  Very  good,"  "  Capital,"  &c,  but  said  nothing 
in  the  way  of  remark,  and  seemed  indeed  not  much  attended 
to  by  the  company,  of  whom  the  ladies  began  to  talk  a  good 
deal.  They  went  on  in  this  way  for  a  considerable  time,  and  I 
had  every  reason  to  feel  satisfied  with  the  impression  my 
works  seemed  to  make  on  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Bedford 
and  the  others,  but  though  the  Duke  of  Wellington  seemed 
full  of  attention,  I  felt  disappointed  with  his  silence.  At  last 
Lady  Argyle  began  to  tell  me  that  the  Duke  wished  me  to 
paint  him  a  picture,  and  was  explaining  what  the  sub  ect  was, 
when  the  Duke,  who  was  at  that  time  seated  on  a  chair  and 


302 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


looking  at  one  of  the  pictures  that  happened  to  be  on  the 
ground,  turned  to  us,  and  swinging  back  upon  the  chair  turned 
up  his  lively  eye  to  me,  and  said  that  the  subject  should  be  a 
parcel  of  old  soldiers  assembled  together  on  their  seats  at  the 
door  of  a  public-house,  chewing  tobacco  and  talking  over  their 
old  stories.  He  thought  they  might  be  in  any  uniform,  and  that 
it  should  be  at  some  public-house  in  the  King's  Eoad,  Chelsea. 
I  said  this  would  make  a  most  beautiful  picture,  and  that  it 
only  wanted  some  story  or  a  principal  incident  to  connect  the 
figures  together :  he  said  perhaps  playing  at  skittles  would  do, 
or  any  other  game,  when  I  proposed  that  one  might  be  reading 
a  newspaper  aloud  to  the  rest,  and  that  in  making  a  sketch  of 
it  many  other  incidents  would  occur.  In  this  he  perfectly 
agreed,  and  said  I  might  send  the  sketch  to  him  when  he  was 
abroad.  He  then  got  up  and  looked  at  his  watch,  and  said  to 
the  company  his  time  was  nearly  out,  as  he  had  to  go  and 
dine  with  the  Duke  of  Cambridge. 

After  they  had  proposed  to  go,  he  made  me  a  bow,  and  as 
he  went  out  of  the  room  he  turned  to  me,  and  said,  "  Well, 
when  shall  I  hear  from  you  ? "  To  which  I  replied  that  my 
immediate  engagements,  and  the  time  it  would  take  to  collect 
materials  for  his  Grace's  subject,  would  prevent  me  being 
able  to  get  it  done  for  two  years.  *'  Very  well,"  said  he,  "  that 
will  be  soon  enough  for  me."  They  then  went  downstairs, 
and  as  they  went  out  our  people  were  all  ready  to  see  him 
from  the  parlour  windows :  when  he  got  to  the  gate,  he  made 
me  a  bow  again,  and  seeing  at  the  same  time  my  family  at  the 
parlour  windows  he  bowed  to  them  also.  As  he  got  upon 
his  horse  he  observed  all  t'  e  families  and  the  servants  were 
at  the  windows,  and  I  saw  two  lifeguardsmen,  the  rogues  just 
behind  the  pillar  at  the  corner,  waiting  to  have  a  full  view 
of  him. 

The  sensation  this  event  occasioned  quite  unhinged  us  for 
the  rest  of  the  day.  Nothing  was  talked  of  but  the  Duke 
of  Wellington;  and  the  chair  he  happened  to  sit  upon  has 
been  carefully  selec'.ed  out,  and  has  been  decorated  with 
ribbons,  and  there  is  a  talk  of  having  an  inscription  upon  it, 
descriptive  of  the  honour  it  has  received. 

With  respect  to  the  appearance  of  the  man,  none  of  the 
portraits  of  him  are  like  him.  He  is  younger  and  fresher, 
more  active  and  lively,  and  in  his  figure  more  clean-made 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


203 


and  firmer  built  than  I  was  led  to  expect.  His  face  is  in 
some  respects  odd ;  has  no  variety  of  expression,  but  his  eyo 
is  extraordinary,  and  is  almost  the  only  feature  I  remember, 
but  I  remember  it  so  well  that  I  think  I  see  it  now.  It  has 
not  the  hungry  and  devouring  look  of  Buonaparte,  but  seems 
to  express  in  its  liveliness  the  ecstasy  that  an  animal  would 
express  in  an  active  and  eager  pursuit* 

From  His  Excellency  the  Count  Mordwinoff. 

St.  Petersburg,  8  (20)  Mai,  1816. 
On  m'a  dit,  mon  cher  neveu,  que  vos  yeux  sont  faibles 
et  que  vous  avez  commence  un  autre  tableau  d'une  grande 
dimension  de  '  l'entree  de  Jesus-Christ  a  Jerusalem.'  Vous 
aurez  done  a  composer,  a  trouver.  a  varier  les  details  infinis,  et 
votre  ouvrage,  pour  etre  parfait,  demandera  bien  des  annees. 
Mon  cher,  il  ne  sera  jamais  paye  a  raison  du  temps  employe  et 
des  depenses  faites,  que  les  amateurs  et  les  acheteurs  calculent 
toujours  peu.  Ecoutez !  Votre  fortune  est  toute  dans  votre 
pinceau,  et  vous  devez  la  faire  encore.  Votre  '  Solomon  '  ne 
vous  a  pas  rendu  riche :  il  vous  a  procure'  de  la  celebrite,  et 
vous  a  bien  servi  pour  vous  mettre  dans  la  voie  de  la  richesse, 
qui  est  toujours  bonne,  meme  pour  un  homme  de  talent.  Je 
vous  aurais  conseille  de  faire  a  present  des  tableaux  de  deux  a 
trois  figure  •,  comme  mon  '  Adam  et  Eve,'  et  plus  de  la  grandeur 
de  ceux  qu'on  place  dans  les  cabinets.  Si  Baphael  et  Buona- 
rotti  ne  faisaient  que  la  'Transfiguration'  et  le  'Dernier 
Jugement,'  ils  seraient  moins  celebres  et  moins  connus.  Mais 
leurs  noms  et  leurs  merites  sont  connus  dans  toute  1' Europe, 
parce  qu'ils  firent  des  tableaux  portables  d'un  pays  a  l'autre,  et 
que  chaque  pays  les  possede  a  present.  Es  peuvent  faire 
plusieurs,  et  avec  le  nombre  ils  doteront  les  nations.  Si  vous 
adopterez  les  dimensions  de  la  generalite  de  leurs  tableaux,  la 
Eussie  connaitra  aussi  le  nom  de  Haydon,  et  Haydon  sera 
place  avec  les  Baphaels  que  nous  posse'dons.  Votre  celebrite 
sera  plus  etendue,  et  votre  fortune  pecuniaire  sera  plus 
splendide.  Je  serai  peut-etre  assez  rirhe  pour  acheter  quelque 
croquis  de  votre  main,  mais  il  faut  retrecir  votre  toile.  Nous 
avons  de  bien  beaux  tableaux  de  Leonard,  du  Correge,  de  Carlo 
Dolce,  d'Andre  del  Sarto,  de  Nicholas  Poussin,  du  Titien,  en 
miniature,  et  leurs  merites  ne  sont  pas  eclipses  par  leur  peti- 


304 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


tesse.  Je  prends  la  liberte  de  vous  donner  ce  conseil  commo 
votre  affectionne  parent,  comme  un  homme  vieux,  lequel,  sans 
etre  avare,  trouve  que  l'argent  est  necessaire  a  tout  age.  Votro 
talent  et  votre  celebrite  sont  aussi  bien  connus  en  Russie, 
mais  vous  avez  besoin  de  vous  rendre  independant  par  le  grand 
agent  de  ce  monde,  un  nombre  competent  de  guinees  en  votre 
possession,  et  je  ne  les  trouve  pas  en  grandes  toiles.  Je  vous 
conseille  comme  un  admirateur  du  Beau  qui  voudrait  voir 
multiplie  ses  images  et  comme  un  homme  en  qui  vous  avez 
reveille  de  l'estime  pour  vous.  Je  suis  sinccrement 
Votre  devoud, 

N.  Mordwinoff. 

Yos  cousines  (les  Anglaises)  se  portent  bien,  et  pretendent 
d'etre  heureuses  ici.  Je  leur  cherche  des  maris  pour  les  rendre 
plus  satisi'aites  encore ! 

From  William  Bewick's  Father. 

SIR,  Darlington,  7th  September,  1816. 

I  received  your  letter  yesterday  concerning  my  son,  and 
am  much  obliged  to  you  in  taking  so  much  upon  you  in  his 
behalf.  Sir,  if  you  think  his  abilities  will  answer  the  expecta- 
tions I  will  do  as  much  as  my  small  pittance  will  allow.  I 
have  a  large  family  to  provide  for,  and  times  are  only  indif- 
ferent at  this  time.  But  I  think  his  mind  is  bent  upon  that 
line  ;  he  was  always  ingenious  from  a  boy  in  any  kind  of  work 
I  put  him  to.  But  it  is  hard  to  bring  him  up  in  a  line  and 
throw  it  away  when  to  almost  manhood.  But,  however,  if  you 
think  he  will  answer,  I  will  do  all  that  lays  in  my  power  for 
him.  I  said,  before  he  came  to  London,  his  mind  was  intent 
solely  on  the  drawing  business,  and  was  very  much  against 
it ;  but  what  can  one  do  ?    You  will  excuse  this  scrawl. 

Sir,  I  remain  your  most  obedient  servant, 

Wm.  Bewick. 

From  Bewick's  Mother. 

SlR,  D..rlington,  2Ct!i  July,  lSi7. 

Your  very  kind  and  obliging  letter  I  received.  In 
answer  I  assure  you  I  am  extremely  sorry  that  my  husband's 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


wishes  are  so  much  contrary  to  my  son's  prosperity,  enthu- 
siasm, and  determination  for  proceeding  in  the  study  for  an 
historic  painter  

After  interrogating  my  husband,  his  answer  was,  that  he 
really  could  not  afford  to  support  my  son  in  London  at  present, 
trade  being  so  very  bad,  and  having  a  large  family  at  home  to 
support.  What  must  be  done  I  really  cannot  say,  as  my  son 
has  said  some  time  since  that  he  is  determined  to  be  nothing 
but  an  historic  painter,  notwithstanding  the  struggles  he  has 
and  may  have  to  make. 

You  will  please  to  accept  my  sincere  thanks  for  the  obliga- 
tions, &c,  which  you  have  rendered  to  my  son,  and  I  hope  he 
will  continue  to  deserve  your  friendship. 

I  am,  sir,  your  obedient  servant, 

Jane  Bewick. 

From  David  Wilkie. 

My  DEAR  HaYDON,  Brussels,  16th  Sept.  mber,  1S16. 

My  landing  at  Ostend  not  being  the  first  time  I  had 
set  foot  in  a  foreign  country,  it  did  not  strike  me  so  much  as 
our  entrance  in  Dieppe,  but  I  was  very  soon  awakened  to  some- 
thing highly  delightful  on  discovering  that  everything  we 
saw  bore  the  stamp  of  being  the  origin  of  Rubens's  and  Teniers's 
style  of  painting.  We  were  first  arrested  by  a  cabaret  on  the 
Quai,  where  we  saw  a  smiling  wife  serving  out  liquor  to  a 
parcel  of  men  smoking  at  various  tables  round  the  room,  and 
whose  faces,  as  well  as  the  style  of  the  apartment,  were  quite 
familiar  to  me.  As  we  passed  along  to  the  inn,  the  notched 
gable  ends  of  the  houses  towards  the  streets  again  reminded  us 
of  Teniers.  In  the  morning  we  had  to  walk  about  a  mile  to 
the  barge.  The  waggon  which  was  sent  to  carry  our  luggage, 
with  two  white  horses,  was  exactly  Rubens's  team.  As  we  pro- 
ceeded on  the  canal  we  thought  we  saw  whole  landscapes  of 
Teniers  succeeding  one  another.  The  trees  were  touched  and 
grouped  exactly  as  he  painted  them ;  the  little  church-spires 
in  the  distance  came  in  ;  the  water  of  the  canal  was  the  very 
colour  he  has  painted  it ;  and  even  the  sky,  which  was  beauti- 
fully clear,  seems  to  have  adapted  itself  as  if  to  bear  him  out 

VOL.  I.  X 


306 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


completely.  This  happened  to  be  the  day  of  a  market  at 
Bruges,  and  we  were  joined  by  shoals  of  peasants  from  both 
sides,  till  the  barge  was  as  full  as  it  could  cram.  I  had  by 
this  time  begun  my  operations  with  my  sketch-book  and 
pencil ;  and  observing  what  treasure  there  was  on  board  for 
study,  I  went  below  and  began  upon  a  most  inimitable  group. 
My  work  very  soon  attracted  the  notice  and  admiration  of  the 
whole  ship's  company.  These  innocent  and  simple  people  seem 
never  to  have  seen  anything  of  the  sort  before.  They  were 
delighted  and  amused,  sat  with  the  greatest  good  nature,  and, 
so  far  as  I  could  judge,  I  was  regarded  as  a  prodigy  till  we 
got  to  Bruges  by  at  least  300  people.  Here  we  left  them,  but 
it  was  only  to  recommence  upon  a  new  set  of  passengers. 
These  were  people  of  a  better  class,  but  equally  willing  to 
encourage  my  labours.  I  drew  everything  that  was  worth 
drawing,  both  in  the  boat  and  on  shore,  till  at  last  I  began 
to  make  a  sketch,  by  the  desire  of  several,  of  one  who  was 
considered  the  smartest  girl  of  the  party.  Mr.  Baimbach  would 
not  try  any  sketches. 

One  part  of  this  day's  journey  was  also  delightful,  that  is 
the  dinner  we  had  in  the  barge.  This  was  superb,  but  its 
merits  cannot  be  explained  within  the  compass  of  a  letter. 

Ghent  we  were  greatly  surprised  with  ;  it  is  magnificent. 
On  Sunday  morning  we  went  to  high  mass  at  the  cathedral. 
The  effect  on  us  both  was  nearly  as  fine  as  that  at  Bouen. 

From  David  Wilkie. 

My  DEAlt  HaYDON,  Rotterdam,  25th  September,  1816. 

M.  Baimbach  and  I  have  spent  a  day  at  Antwerp,  and, 
as  artists,  were  exceedingly  interested,  not  merely  with  the 
works  of  Bubens  and  Vandyke  which  we  saw,  but  with  every- 
thing that  seemed  to  have  furnished  them  with  the  materials 
for  their  labours.  The  first  object  we  sought  out  was  the  great 
church,  and  I  assure  you  on  seeing  the  pictures  of  Bubens  in 
their  places,  I  never  felt  more  strongly  the  ruffianism  of  their 
removal  to  Baris  by  Buonaparte.  This  does  notarise  from  their 
being  well-placed  either,  but  they  seem  to  effect  a  great  moral 
purpose.  They  are  here  dedicated  to  religion,  and  they  act  in 
support  of  it,  and  prove  the  usefulness  of  the  art  that  has  pro- 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


307 


duced  them.  The  situation  of  the  'Assumption  of  the 
Virgin '  is  the  finest  I  ever  saw.  The  '  Eaising  of  the  Cross," 
and  the  'Descent  from  the  Cross,'  are  well  lighted,  hut  the 
Avails  on  which  they  hang  are  too  hare.  By  the  assistance 
of  the  Conservator,  I  got  into  the  museum,  and  there  I 
saw  all  the  pictures  from  Paris  on  the  ground,  and  tbis 
is  one  of  the  greatest  treats  I  have  had.  I  got  close  to 
them,  and  I  think  they  are  the  finest  he  ever  painted.  I 
wish  I  had  you  to  see  a  head  of  a  '  Virgin  and  Child,'  and 
some  others.  I  never  saw  such  painting.  They  are  as  com- 
pletely his  own  as  Mr.  Bourke's,  and  have  much  more  richness 
in  point  of  subject. 

At  Amsterdam  I  went  in  the  first  place  to  the  museum, 
where  I  saw  some  large  groups  of  portraits  by  Vanderhelst, 
which  are  very  masterly  things.  These  are  perhaps  the  finest 
things  in  the  museum.  There  was  a  great  number  of  the 
smaller  pictures,  but  I  think  not  of  the  very  first  quality. 
AVith  these,  however,  I  was  greatly  interested.  I  stopped  two 
days  at  Amsterdam.  1  saw  a  good  deal,  but  owing  to  the 
King  being  there,  I  did  not  see  all  I  might  have  seen  at  such 
a  place.  The  day  on  which  I  left  Amsterdam,  I  breakfasted  at 
Harlem,  and  heard  the  organ  in  the  great  church,  that  wonder 
of  the  musical  world.  This  surprised  me  a  great  deal.  When 
it  began  I  could  soon  perceive  a  richness  in  the  tone  I  had  not 
heard  before,  and  when  all  of  a  sudden  the  vox  hum  ana  struck 
up,  I  felt  quite  astonished.  The  imitation  of  a  choir  of  men 
and  women's  voices  is  astonishing,  and  would  be  almost  ridi- 
culous if  it  were  not  for  the  tremendous  power  of  the  tones,  and 
the  dexterity  of  the  execution. 

I  travelled  by  the  canals,  and  got  to  Leyden  to  dinner. 
This  was  interesting  to  me  as  the  residence  of  Jan  Steen,  who 
excels  perhaps  all  his  countrymen  in  expression,  and  certainly 
in  that  of  painting  the  houses,  the  dresses,  and  character  of  the 
Dutch  people.  For  Ostade,  for  Rembrandt,  for  Metzer  and 
Vandervelde,  you  must  look  in  particular  places,  but  Jan  Steen 
you  see  everywhere. 

The  Dutch  people  have  not  been  flattered  by  any  of  their 
painters,  hut  less  by  Jan  Steen  than  by  any  other.  They  are, 
however,  not  like  the  English,  and  though  they  could  always 
be  made  interesting,  they  could  not  be  made  beautiful. 

At  the  Hague  I  had  another  treat.    The  picture  belonging 

x2 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


to  the  King  had  just  come  back  from  Paris  ;  they  were  not 
yet  put  up.  The  Ostades  and  Jan  Steens  are  of  the  very  first 
quality,  and  I  only  wish  I  could  say  they  were  in  the  best 
preservation,  but  they  have  received  considerable  damage,  and 
it  is  the  same  case  with  the  pictures  that  have  come  back  to 
Antwerp.  This  has  not  however  arisen  from  their  removal  from 
Paris,  as  the  admirers  of  Buonaparte  would  have  us  believe, 
but  from  a  set  of  picture  cleaners,  who  have  already  done  the  mis- 
chief, and  are  now  at  Antwerp  completing  their  glorious  reform. 
The  large  picture  of  the  "  Bull,"  of  Paul  Potter,  has  had  a  most 
thorough  scouring,  and  we  are  observing  that  the  high  lights 
in  Ostade  and  Jan  Steen's  pictures  had  been  rubbed  into  the 
very  bone.  The  beautiful  picture  of  the  '  Dead  Christ,'  by 
Vandyke,  which  you  will  remember  in  the  Louvre,  I  saw  at 
Antwerp  with  a  large  patch  of  raw  colour  quite  hare!  I  could 
not  help  expressing  great  indignation  to  the  conservator.  His 
views  and  mine,  however,  were  very  different,  and  it  appeared 
a  delicate  subject,  but  I  saw  the  same  thing  was  threatened  to 
some  of  the  others,  and  I  kept  renewing  the  subject  in  a  most 
grievous  way  at  every  picture  we  came  to.  An  intelligent 
traveller  I  met  with  has  told  me  that  the  '  Taking  down  from 
the  Cross,'  was  "most  confoundedly  rubbed"  before  it  was 
put  up.  If  you  would  come  to  Antwerp  we  would  make  a  row 
about  it. 

The  impression  my  tour  in  Holland  has  made  upon  me  is 
striking  beyond  everything.  I  feel  familiar  with  all  I  see,  as 
if  I  had  experienced  a  previous  existence  in  this  country,  which 
however,  has  but  one  character,  and  it  is  surprising  the  variety 
the  Dutch  artists  have  produced  from  it.  I  see  scarcely  an 
object  that  has  not  been  painted;  and  although  I  am  pleased 
with  the  style  of  everything  1  see,  it  is  less  because  it  will 
make  a  good  picture,  than  because  it  has  made  good  pictures. 
Holland  as  subject  for  pictures  has  been  completely  ex- 
hausted. 

Although  our  objects  are  different,  it  would  have  been  a 
great  assistance  to  me  to  have  had  you  with  me  on  this  tour, 
and  might  have  been  interesting  to  yourself  to  see  what  nature 
has  not  done  for  the  Dutch  masters,  and  what  they  have  done 
for  themselves. 

I  am,  my  dear  Haydon, 

David  Wilkie. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


309 


From  David  Wilkie. 

My  DEAR  HaYDON,  Kensington,  7th  October,  1816. 

I  arrived  yesterday  morning  at  3  a.m.,  and  had  to 
knock  up  my  people.  The  custom-house  officers  at  Dover 
occasioned  us  great  delay  and  vexation,  but  I  had  much  less 
difficulty  with  the  articles  that  were  really  smuggled  than  with 
those  that  were  not.  To-morrow  evening  I  shall  have  the 
pleasure  of  waiting  on  you,  and  talking  over  my  journey,  if 
convenient  to  you  to  be  at  home. 

Ever  yours, 

David  Wilkie. 

To  David  Wilkie. 

27th  October,  181G. 

I  have  been  at  Hampstead  this  fortnight  for  my  eyes, 
and  shall  return  with  my  body  much  stronger  for  application. 
The  greater  part  of  my  time  has  been  spent  in  Leigh  Hunt's 
society,  who  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  delightful  companions. 
Full  of  poetry  and  art,  and  amiable  humour,  we  argue  always 
with  full  hearts  on  everything  but  religion  and  Buonaparte, 
and  we  have  resolved  never  to  talk  of  these,  particularly  as  I 
have  been  recently  examining  Voltaire's  opinions  concerning 
Christianity,  and  turmoiling  my  head  to  ascertain  fully  my 
right  to  put  him  into  my  picture ! 

Though  Leigh  Hunt  is  not  deep  in  knowledge,  moral,  meta- 
physical, or  classical,  yet  he  is  intense  in  feeling,  and  has  an 
intellect  for  ever  on  the  alert.  He  is  like  one  of  those  instru- 
ments on  three  legs,  which,  throw  it  how  you  will,  always 
pitches  on  two,  and  has  a  spike  sticking  for  ever  up  and  ever 
ready  for  you.  He  "sets"  at  a  subject  with  a  scent  like  a 
pointer.  He  is  a  remarkable  man,  and  created  a  sensation  by 
his  independence,  his  courage,  his  disinterestedness  in  public 
matters,  and  by  the  truth,  acuteness,  and  taste  of  his  dramatic 
criticisms  he  raised  the  rank  of  newspapers,  and  gave  by  his 
example  a  literary  feeling  to  the  weekly  ones  more  especially. 
As  a  poet,  I  think  him  full  of  the  genuine  feeling.  His  third 
canto  in  '  Rimini '  is  equal  to  anything  in  any  language  of  that 
sweet  sort.  Perhaps  in  his  wishing  to  avoid  the  monotony  of 
the  Pope  school,  he  may  have  shot  into  the  other  extreme,  and 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


his  invention  of  obscene  words  to  express  obscene  feelings  bor- 
ders sometimes  on  affectation.  But  these  are  trifles  compared 
with  the  beauty  of  the  poem,  the  intense  painting  of  the  scenery, 
and  the  deep  burning  in  of  the  passion  which  trembles  in  every 
line.  Thus  far  as  a  critic,  an  editor,  and  a  poet.  As  a  man,  1 
know  none  with  such  an  affectionate  heart,  if  never  opposed  in 
his  opinions.  He  has  defects  of  course  :  one  of  his  great  defects 
is  getting  inferior  people  about  him  to  listen,  too  fond  of 
shining  at  any  expense  in  society,  and  a  love  of  approbation 
from  the  darling  sex  bordering  on  weakness  ;  though  to  women 
he  is  delightfully  pleasant,  yet  they  seem  more  to  dawdle  him 
as  a  delicate  plant.  I  don't  know  if  they  do  not  put  a  confi- 
dence in  him  which  to  me  would  be  mortifying. 

He  is  a  man  of  sensibility  tinged  with  morbidity,  and  of 
such  sensitive  organisation  of  body,  that  the  plant  is  not  more 
alive  to  touch  than  he.  I  remember  once,  walking  in  a  field, 
we  came  to  a  muddy  place  concealed  by  grass.  The  moment 
Hunt  touched  it,  he  shrank  back,  saying,  "  It's  muddy ! "  as 
if  he  meaned  that  it  was  full  of  adders  He  is  a  composi- 
tion, as  we  all  are,  of  defects  and  delightful  qualities,  indolently 
averse  to  worldly  exertion,  because  it  harasses  the  musings  of 
his  fancy,  existing  only  by  the  common  duties  of  life,  yet  igno- 
rant of  them,  and  often  suffering  from  their  neglect. 

How  is  your  health  ? 

Ever  yours, 

B.  R.  Haydon.* 

From  Sir  George  Beaumont. 

My  DEAR  SlH,  Cole-Orton,  22ud  December,  1816. 

Our  friend  Wilkie  gives  me  a  most  gratifying  account 
of  the  progress  of  your  picture,  which  seems  even  to  have  sur- 
passed his  expectations.  1  can  assure  you  this  give-*  me  sincero 
pleasure,  and  1  look  forward  to  the  gratification  I  shall  enjoy 
when  I  see  it.  I  hope  it  will  be  ready  for  exhibition  this 
spring— remember  the  shortness  of  life  and  the  length  of  ait. 
Have  you  had  any  time  to  do  what  you  proposed  to  the 
'  Macbeth '  ?    The  rest  of  the  picture  is  so  very  excellent,  it  is 

*  Haydon  adds,  in  a  note  of  later  date,  '•  If  I  ever  loved  any  man  onee  with 
a  fullness  of  s  ml  it  was  Leigh  Hunt.  If  I  ever  reverenee.l  a  man  in  whom  vim  •, 
forbearance,  and  principle  were  personified,  it  was  his  brother  John  Hunt :  li.  li.  11." 
—Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


a  pity  not  to  make  it  as  perfect  as  you  can.  I  have  some 
thought  of  placing  it  at  the  end  of  my  gallery  in  London,  if  I 
find  the  place  is  large  enough  and  will  suit  it ;  but  we  will 
consult  about  it  when  I  come  to  London.  Wilkie  also  speaks 
highly  of  the  studies  you  have  made  at  the  gallery.  I  shall 
be  glad  to  see  them  too. 

You  have  doubtless  lamented  with  every  friend  to  genius, 
taste,  and  the  arts,  the  destruction  of  the  '  Nativity,'  and 
several  other  works  of  Sir  Joshua's,  together  with  many  other 
fine  pictures.  I  luckily  called  at  Bel  voir  last  summer,  and  saw 
the  '  Nativity,'  little  dreaming,  alas  !  it  was  for  the  last  time. 
I  saw  it  during  its  progress,  and  as  soon  as  it  was  finished,  and 
I  really  thought  I  had  done  justice  to  it  in  the  picture  im- 
pressed upon  my  memory.  But  I  assure  you  it  far  surpassed 
my  most  sanguine  expectations  in  many  respects  (and  I  think 
I  do  not  suffer  my  regard  and  enthusiasm  for  the  admirable 
author  to  overcome  my  judgment).  It  surpassed  any  picture  I 
ever  saw  for  colouring,  surface,  and  in  light  and  shadow  nothing 
could  surely  exceed  it.  I  feel  confident  it  would  have  ap- 
peared to  advantage  by  the  side  of  any  picture  I  ever  beheld, 
ancient  or  modem.  It  is  indeed  a  national  loss.  But,  alas  ! 
how  frail  is  the  reputation  of  a  painter !  How  lamentable  it  is 
to  be  obliged  to  rely  on  such  perishable  materials!  Would  the 
'  Nativity  '  had  been  painted  on  a  block  of  adamant !  But  this 
is  a  melancholy  topic.  You  are,  however,  better  off  than  the 
artists  of  antiquity,  their  works  are  altogether  gone ;  your 
compositions  will  at  least  remain  in  engravings,  though  they  in 
general  are  but  faint  echoes,  for  which  reason  I  have  always 
wished  great  artists  could  find  some  time  to  etch  their  own 
works — this  is  the  only  way  to  transmit  their  true  feelings. 
But  as  I  mean  to  excite  and  not  damp  your  exertions,  I  feel 
almost  sorry  I  have  been  led  by  this  melancholy  catastrophe 
to  expatiate  so  much  on  this  subject.  But  the  very  lamenta- 
tion is  a  stimulus,  inasmuch  as  it  shows  how  interwoven  with 
our  best  feelings  the  works  of  real  genius  are.  This  surely  is 
a  flattering  and  consoling  consideration,  and  should  have  its 
due  effect.  But  I  am  not  afraid  of  your  sanguine  feelings 
giving  too  much  weight  to  the  inevitable  course  of  things. 

With  the  best  wishes  of  Lady  Beaumont  and  myself, 
I  am  truly  yours, 

George  Beaumont. 


3I2 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  John  Scott. 

My  DEAR  HaYDON,  Tans,  9th  October,  1817. 

I  can  perfectly  sympathise  with  all  your  feelings  in 
leaving  your  old  abode,  and  even  think  I  should  not  feel  my- 
self at  home  with  you  in  any  other.  I  hope  you  will  always 
continue  to  find  that  "  in  action  is  the  wisdom  and  nobility  of 
human  nature,"  and  in  "  speculative  sensibilities  something 
comparatively  weak  and  distempered."  To  continue  through 
life  strong  in  that  opinion  one  must  either  be  very  lucky,  or, 
very  thoughtless.  May  your  belief  have  no  reference  but  to 
the  first  cause.  For  myself  it  is  because  I  see  everybody 
acting  round  about  me,  and  myself  in  the  middle  of  them,  to 
so  very  little  purpose  compared  with  the  wear  and  tear  of  the 
material  that  I  am  set  upon  wondering  and  regretting.  A 
determined,  exclusive,  fixed  and  monopolizing  attention  to  any 
one  pursuit,  or  direction  to  any  one  aim  in  which  "  self"  was 
concentrated  and  bound  up,  would,  I  know,  relieve  this  ;  but  it 
would  be  in  the  same  way  that  one  feels  comfortable  in  buttoning 
up  one's  own  coat  very  tight  on  seeing  a  beggar  starving  in  the 
cold.  You  have  quite  mistaken  me  if  you  imagine  that  I  have 
ever  mentioned  Rousseau  as  a  right  thinker  I  I  merely  alluded 
to  him  as  a  person  whose  feelings,  right  or  wrong,  had  an  in- 
tensity which  conveyed  them  like  pointed  lightnings  to  the 
imagination  He  was  evidently  diseased  in  mind,  and  has 
many  errors  in  taste,  as  well  as  in  principle,  to  answer  for.  I 
regard  him  only  as  a  genuine  specimen,  as  a  certain  fashion,  of 
human  nature,  his  impulses  being  too  strong  for  craft,  for 
forms,  for  laws  and  customs  to  destroy  their  characteristic 
truth  and  vivid  powers.  A  specimen  of  this  sort  is  always 
highly  interesting,  for  we  may  contemplate  it  as  a  study.  As 
to  making  an  enumeration  of  where  Rousseau  is  practically 
wrong,  he  is  so  seldom  right  that  I  would  never  think  of  it ; 
yet  our  common  nature  thus  wound  up,  and  fermented,  and 
working,  is  something  to  be  enthusiastic  upon,  I  think,  and 
when  one's  own  sympathies  are  touched  by  its  corresponding 
action,  we  are  wrapt  up  in  the  stimulus.  But  that  Rousseau 
is  a  glory  to  anybody  I  should  scarcely  imagine.  Everybody 
who  has  ever  written  upon  him  has  treated  him  as  a  splendid 
eccentricity;  but  when  one  of  these  luminous  irregularities 
comes  into  view  the  nations  wonder,  and  even  admire. 


B.  R.  HAY  VON. 


313 


With  regard  to  my  present  views  on  the  Christian  religion, 
when  you  write  about  the  clearness  of  duty  and  the  sub- 
lime influence  of  prayer  upon  the  mind,  you  write  what  I  can 
most  fully  join  vou  in ;  but  these  two  points  have  no  more 
to  do  with  the  veracity  of  the  Christian  religion  than  chemistry. 
The  points  are — 1.  liid  God  make  the  world  in  the  way  and 
at  the  time  said  in  Genesis  ?  2.  Was  the  Mosaic  dispensation 
His  inspired  work  ?  3.  Does  the  dispensation  of  Christ  naturally 
result  from  the  former,  as  it  pretends,  and  was  the  latter 
founded  by  the  Son,  yet  eijual  of  God,  who  was  crucified  on 
earth  to  save  the  souls  of  men,  he  being  the  Great  Author 
of  the  starry  heavens  and  the  Creator  of  the  unfathomable 
universe  ?  This  is  the  Christian  religion,  and  this  1  not  only 
disbelieve  myself,  but  I  know  in  my  own  mind  it  cannot  be 
true,  and  am  further  immutably  convinced  that  no  one  whose 
intellect  is  equal  to  mine  (which  is  not  saying  anything  enor- 
mous) can  believe  it,  if  he  brings  his  heart  and  soul  up 
to  the  subject  in  the  good  faith  and  earnestness  which  I 
have  used. 

Believe  me  to  remain  always, 

Your  most  sincere  friend, 
John  Scott. 

Fragment  of  reply  to  John  Scott. 

No  date,  IS  17. 

Though  Christianity  is  built  on  the  Mosaic  dispensation 
and  on  the  Ten  Commandments,  yet  it  goes  further,  and  com- 
pletes what  was  not  complete  in  the  former.  I  deny  that 
clearness  of  duty  and  the  influence  of  prayer  have  nothing  to 
do  with  the  Christian  religion.  They  have  everything  to  do 
with  it,  for  when  was  clearness  of  duty  known  before,  or  that 
prayer — holy,  pure,  pious,  and  submissive  prayer — should  be 
effectual  and  granted  ?  I  see  nothing  more  absurd  or  incon- 
sistent in  the  Great  Spirit  of  the  universe  at  a  time  of  moral 
depravity  taking  on  Himself  flesh  to  propagate  and  instil  a 
moral  doctrine  for  the  guidance  of  men  here,  to  the  happiness 
of  their  immortal  souls  hereafter  by  the  extirpation  of  evil, 
than  that  the  same  great  and  infinite  Creator  should  in  the 
midst  of  His  sublimities  and  endless  world  give  a  heart  and  a 
liver  to  a  flea.    Are  the  assurances  that  He  will  forgive,  is  the 


3>4 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


eternal  happiness  or  misery  of  a  soul,  being  immortal,  nothing  ? 
Are  the  duties  of  father,  son,  and  wife,  and  of  all  to  their  God 
nothing?  And  if  they  are  anything,  where  are  these  duties  so 
informed,  so  laid  down,  so  distinctively  developed  as  in  the 
Mosaic  and  Christian  dispensations  ?  How  comes  it  that  the 
Jews,  dull  and  inert  intellectually,  with  a  language  com- 
paratively poor  and  barren,  to  whom  we  owe  nothing  in  science 
or  art,  who  were  in  character  a  dastardly,  cruel,  and  ungrateful 
race,  are  the  people  to  whom  we  owe  the  worship  of  the  one 
God  ;  to  whom  we  owe  a  code  of  moral  law  that  has  been  the 
foundation  of  all  the  codes  of  law  of  intellectual  Europe  ? 
Why  did  not  the  great  monarchies,  the  Assyrian,  the  Baby- 
lonian, Egyptian,  and  Greek  contribute  something  in  the  midst 
of  their  science  and  their  intellectual  skill  towards  these 
important  points  ?  How  comes  it  that  this  dastardly  peoplo 
should  have  survived  the  wreck  of  all  the  mighty  empires  of 
the  earth  ?  How  comes  it  that  they  predicted  a  Being  should 
arise  from  out  of  them  who  should  change  the  morals  of  man- 
kind, lay  open  the  hope  of  future  existence,  be  persecuted  and 
murdered?  How  comes  it  He  did  arise?  How  comes  it  that 
they  in  the  earliest  period  of  their  history,  when  in  the  desert 
they  should  be  told  that  if  they  were  vicious  they  should  be 
scattered  and  become  a  jest  and  a  byeword  among  nations,  and 
that  they  are  so  ?  You  will  not  believe  that  the  predictions 
were  made  previous  to  the  event?  But  we  know  that  so 
scrupulous  were  the  Jews  of  the  text  of  their  Scripture  that  an 
order  of  men  was  specially  created  to  keep  the  text  uninterpo- 
lated.  They  themselves  believe  the  Scriptures,  but  maintain 
that  they  are  not  yet  accomplished. 

Now  no  deist  can  refute  their  antiquity.  The  historical 
record  as  a  record  only  bears  truth  on  the  face  of  it.  "  One 
touch  of  nature  makes  the  whole  world  kin;"  one  touch  of 
unaffected  truth  and  feeling  throws  truth  over  others  not  so 
deep  or  so  palpable.  Everything  is  told  that  all  may  be 
believed.  The  relation  being  a  relation,  and  not  a  work  of 
inventive  genius  selected  and  combined  for  the  development  of 
a  passion  or  an  object,  deep  touches  of  nature  cannot  be  so 
often  expected  as  to  make  you  exclaim.  Nothing  is  chosen,  all 
is  told  like  a  journal  of  a  day,  therefore  the  author  made  no 
pretensions  to  high  intellect,  or  the  beau-ideal  or  dee})  skill  in 
human  nature.    When  deep  touches  do  occur  we  may  naturally 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


3i5 


infer  they  happened,  as  we  infer  that  others  happened,  when 
not  so  deep,  because  they  are  not  continued  as  under  invention. 
On  the  return  of  the  Jews  from  captivity,  and  when  the  foun- 
dations of  the  new  temple  were  being  laid,  many  old  men  who 
remembered  the  former  temple  in  all  its  glory,  "  wept  with  a 
loud  voice"  (Ezra  iii.  12).  Now  this  is  a  touch  of  nature 
that  makes  all  the  rest  credible  as  a  relation.  My  time  and 
studies  do  not  allow  me  to  compare  dates,  to  examine  trans- 
lations, and  to  collect  historical  evidence,  but  I  seek  for  the 
evidence  of  a  thing  in  its  natural  sympathies.  Here  if  the 
temple  was  rebuilding  it  must  have  been  destroyed,  and  so  on 
up  to  first  causes  connected  in  a  link. 

If  the  miracles  in  Christianity  be  true,  and  if  twelve  men 
had  always  been  deceived  that  would  have  been  the  greater 
miracle  of  the  two,  the  rest  follows.  There  is  every  reason  to 
believe  that  the  miracles  are  true  from  historical  tradition  only. 
No  one  at  the  time,  or  for  two  hundred  years  after,  ventured  to 
contradict  the  fact ;  they  could  not.  They  admitted  that  the 
mirae'es  were  performed,  but  endeavoured  to  destroy  their 
effect  by  asserting  that  they  were  performed  by  the  influence 
of  the  devil.  Hume  and  his  followers  always  put  their  per- 
ception of  what  they  imagine  must  be  truth  (as  far  as  their 
range  of  capacity  goes)  against,  first,  a  thing  related  which  can 
be  proved  to  be  historically  true  as  to  time  and  date ;  and 
secondly,  naturally  true  as  to  inherent  and  internal  evidence, 
considering  the  nature  of  man  and  his  mental  and  corporeal 
formation.  Let  us  set  aside,  however,  historical  evidence  and 
look  only  at  the  internal  and  natural  proof  in  favour  of  the 
truth  of  the  miracles.  How  would  men  naturally  act  when 
suddenly  cured  of  their  blindness,  lameness,  &c.  ?  If  we  see  in 
the  relation  one  touch  of  natural  consequence  which  physically 
must  have  occurred  under  the  circumstances,  we  cannot  reject 
the  fact ;  for  the  narrators  were  not  men  deeply  skilled  in  the 
knowledge  of  the  physical  properties  of  the  human  frame,  any 
more  than  they  were  skilled  in  knowledge  of  the  metaphysical 
properties  of  the  human  intellect.  Take  the  case  of  the  lame 
man  at  the  beautiful  gate.  "  Silver  and  gold  have  I  none,  but 
what  I  have  give  I  thee ;  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  of 
Nazareth  rise  up  and  walk.  And  he  took  him  by  the  right 
hand  and  lift  him  up,  and  immediately  his  feet  and  ankles 
received  strength,  and  he  leaping  up,  stood  and  walked,  and 


3i6 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


entered  the  temple  leaping  and  praising  God."  Now  mark 
this,  the  muscles  unused  to  the  influence  of  will  contracted 
involuntarily,  and  he  leaped  up,  as  he  must  have  done,  and  then 
walked,  and  then  they  again  spasmodically  contracted  and  he 
leaped  again,  and  in  the  first  impulse  of  thinking  he  praised 
God.  But  observe  what  follows.  The  novelty  over  for  the 
moment,  the  man  reflected,  and  his  heart  misgiving  him  lest  it 
was  but  a  charm,  and  that  he  who  had  lain  for  years  an 
impotent  burden  should  be  walking,  he  could  not  tell  how,  his 
mind  sank  (had  he  been  a  woman  he  would  have  fainted)  and, 
terrified  lest  he  should  as  instantaneously  return  to  his  decrepi- 
tude, the  lame  man  "held  Peter  and  John."  Shakespeare 
could  not  have  felt  more  truly  how  a  human  being  in  such  a 
situation  woidd  have  acted  than  the  apostolic  historian  has 
told  us  how  he  saw  this  man  act.  He  w  ho  refuses  to  believe 
this  miracle  must  shut  his  heart  to  all  testimony  on  the  relation 
of  his  fellow-creatures  that  exists.  But  if  this  miracle  be  true, 
as  it  must  be  to  my  capacity,  w  hy  then  Peter  and  John  per- 
formed one,  and  so  on  up  to  first  causes.* 

What  distresses  me  and  seems  so  incomprehensible  to  me  is 
that  because  in  the  Christian  religion  there  are  points  one  cannot 
explain  and  things  one  cannot  account  for,  such  as  the  relation  of 
the  Father  and  the  Son  and  the  procession  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and 
which  if  explained  and  accounted  for  would  leave  no  difficult  es, 
you  assume  at  once  that  Christianity  cannot  be  true  and  ought 
not  to  be  believed.  But  are  there  not  things  which  cannot  be 
contradicted,  such  as  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  and  the  Cruci- 
fixion, and  can  only  be  accounted  for  on  the  ground  of  its 
authenticity?  Supposing  you  were  told  that  in  one  hour  you 
must  appear  before  God,  what  would  you  do  ?  Pester  yourself 
with  disquisitions  on  merit  or  demerit,  on  the  existence  and 
functions  of  the  Supreme  Being,  on  the  relations  of  the  Father 

*  This  is  Shelley's  great  stumbling-block.  The  predictions  are  so  clear  tint 
he  is  oblige.  1  to  acknowledge  that  fact,  but  then  he  shuffles  off  by  denying  that 
we  have  any  proof  they  were  written  previous  to  the  event.  This  is  always  the 
subterfuge  of  philosophic  disbelief.  "The  fill  -third  chapter  of  Isaiah,'  savs 
Shelley,  "is  more  explicit  vet  it  does  not  exceed  in  clearness  the  Oracle  of 
Delphos."  Show  me  an  Ora'de  of  Delphos  which  predicted  a  nation  should  be 
dispersed  and  punished,  a  Messiah  arise  whom  tin  y  should  kill,  that  in  con- 
sequence their  city  should  be  razed,  and  thev  themselves  made  a  byeword  among 
uations.  Show  me  an  Oracle  of  Delphos  that  predicted  anything  like  this,  and 
prove  to  me  that  it  was  accompl  shed,  and  is  now  accomplishing  under  our  very 
eyes.  You  cannot,  then,  w  holly  disbelieve  predictions  in  which  such  events  are 
clearly  foretold,  and  are  actually  happening  at  this  very  day. — 13.  K.  H. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


3'7 


and  the  Son,  and  on  the  origin  of  evil  ?  No ;  you  would 
examine  yourself  whether  you  truly  repented,  strain  all  to 
forgive  all  and  to  make  your  body  a  temple  for  purity,  and 
then  cast  yourself  upon  His  mercy  and  forgiveness.  But  this 
is  the  Christian  religion,  and  where  can  you  find  it  elsewhere 
than  in  Christianity  ?  It  is  nothing  to  me  whether  God 
created  the  world  as  related  in  Genesis  or  not,  or  whether  evil 
came  into  the  world  by  an  apple.  Evil  did  exist  when  Moses 
brought  the  Jews  from  Egypt.  It  was  sufficient  for  him  to 
tell  them  that  if  they  followed  the  commandments  of  God 
instead  of  flattering  their  own  foid  des'res,  the  influence  of 
evil  would  be  weakened,  and  then  when  they  acted  as  they 
ouj>ht  Christ  should  come  and  complete  the  fabric.  Then  con- 
sider the  influence  of  Christianity.  Has  it  not  had  influence 
on  society  and  on  the  feelings  of  mankind,  in  the  institution  of 
marriage  and  all  the  social  duties,  in  the  refined  and  intellectual 
pagan  world?  Were  there  ever  such  institutions  for  the  relief 
of  the  sick  and  poor  as  hospitals  ?  No,  nothing  of  the  kind. 
Now  Christianity  has  not  failed  in  reforming  the  world — it  is 
reforming  it.  The  horrible  and  disgusting  depravity  of  that 
world  at  the  time  of  our  Saviour's  teaching  not  only  shows  us 
that  a  new  revelation  was  demanded,  but  to  what  depths  of 
iniquity  and  wickedness  mankind  could  fall  under  the  influence 
of  intellect  alone,  even  with  the  teaching  and  example  of 
such  men  as  Plato  and  Socrates,  Seneca  and  Aristotle.  The 
advance  to  good  from  evil  since  the  days  of  Tiberius  is 
enormous  and  progressive.  The  institution  of  charities  and 
hospitals,  the  abolition  of  human  slavery  and  all  the  human 
sacrifices,  ameliorations  of  the  condition  of  man  are  proofs.  It 
is  not  true  that  Christianity  has  made  its  way  by  persecutions, 
and  imprisonments,  and  deeds  of  unexampled  atrocity,  as  the 
enemies  of  Christianity  assert.  It  has  made  its  way  in  spite  <  f 
persecution  and  by  the  very  reverse  of  such  practices.  In  the  first 
place,  how  could  the  apostles  do  such  things  ?  They  were  not 
the  ruling  powers  of  the  world.  They  had  no  power  to  fling 
pagans  to  the  wild  beasts ;  the  Christians  have  burned  each 
other  for  abstruse  metaphysical  differences  which  formed  no 
part  of  the  simple  teaching  of  Christ,  but  they  have  never 
burned  or  tortured  or  sacrificed  Mahometans,  Hindoos,  or  Pa- 
gans Diocletian  first  began  by  putting  100,000  Christians 
to  death  because  one  tore  his  edict  1    Trajan  flung  them  to 


3'3 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


feed  the  lions, and  Julian  slaughtered  thousands;  yet  Christianity 
established  itself  in  spite  of  such  persecution.  But  all  atrocious 
deeds  were  first  practised  against  themselves.  You  never  hear 
the  mild  philosophers  who  feel  so  acutely  for  human  nature 
display  any  feeling  for  the  poor  suffering  mangled  Christians. 
Voltaire,  Gibbon,  Hume,  and  Shelley  have  a  certain  range  of 
capacity,  not  of  the  highest  order.  They  have  talent  enough 
to  torture  truth,  and  sophisticate  for  falsehood,  but  not  can- 
dour enough  to  make  allowance  for  any  want,  if  its  allowance 
should  be  against  them.  The  great  object  should  be  not  to 
cavil  because  a  thing  is  far  from  being,  dec,  but  to  be  willing 
to  acknowledge  when  it  goes  the  greatest  part  of  the  iray  towards, 
&c,  and  that  is  the  candid  and  unprejudiced  capacity,  and  every 
man  must  acknowledge  that  all  the  evidences  of  Christianity, 
exclusive  of  one's  own  personal  conviction  from  experience  of 
its  sublime  efficacy,  do  go  the  greater  part  of  the  way  towards 
its  proof. 

To  conclude  this  long  and  I  fear  incoherent  letter,  a  "deter- 
mined, exclusive,  fixed,  and  monopolising  attention  as  you  say 
to  one  aim  in  which  self  is  concentrated  and  bound  up,  would 
relieve  your  present  feelings,  but  it  would  be  in  the  same  way 
a  relief  as  buttoning  over  your  coat  when  you  meet  a  starving 
beggar."  You  are  .mistaken,  my  dear  Scott.  A  determined 
and  monopolising  pursuit  to  one  aim,  in  which  self  is  com- 
pletely sacrificed  to  the  glory  or  reformation  of  a  great  country, 
is  breasting  a  battery  of  guns  with  your  coat  open,  while  others 
button  up  theirs  and  are  off.  Howard,  I  take  it,  was  one  of 
this  monopolising  order,  with  Clarkson,  Wellington,  Ledyard, 
Mungo  Park,  and  others.  In  truth  a  man  has  no  need  to 
button  up  his  coat  while  a  beggar  is  starving,  nor  need  he  be 
without  speculative  sensibilities,  but  he  must  not  let  either 
the  one  or  the  other  interfere  with  the  more  important  call  of 
the  three. 

Believe  me  ever  sincerely  yours, 
B.  R.  Haydon. 

From  Horatio  Smith. 

West  Cottnjre,  Ryde, 
DEAR  HAYDON,  Wednesday,  23rd  February,  1817. 

If  you  ever  doubted  that  idleness  was  the  root  of  all 
evil,  you  will  believe  when  I  tell  you  that  this  letter  is  the 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


319 


fruit  of  it,  though  I  really  wanted  to  assure  you  that  I  had  not 
been  inattentive  to  the  wish  expressed  in  your  balloon  parlour 
respecting  an  introduction  to  Miss  F  . 

Knowing  little  or  nothing  of  Mr.  or  Mrs.  W  I  applied 

to  herself,  but  found  she  was  so  much  distressed  and  vexed 

by  Mr.  violation  of  the  pledge  exacted  when  she  allowed 

her  miniature  to  be  shown,  that  she  recoiled  from  the  pro- 
position under  a  notion  that  artists  in  general  have  no  attach- 
ment to  fair  forms  unless  when  they  can  be  rendered  sub- 
servient to  their  art,  as  cannibals  are  only  humane  to  their 
captives  when  they  mean  to  have  them  for  supper;  a  sus- 
picion that  was  confirmed  when  I  admitted  that  you  had 
been  recommended  to  take  off  her  head.  Indirectly  I  inquired 
whether  she  knew  Loi'd  and  Lady  Elgin,  when  she  assured 
me  that  she  had  never  spoken  to  either,  and  did  not  even 
know  them  by  sight,  so  that  your  friend  the  marble  stealer 
must  add  the  grace  of  wanton  fibbing  to  his  other  accom- 
plishments, for  which  he  deserves  a  cross-buttock  from  his 
own  Theseus.  .  .  . 

Let  me  find  your  bust  at  Knightsbridge  and  yourself  at 
Lisson  Grove,  comfortably  housed  and  proceeding  to  work  like 
a  giant  refreshed.  Pray  don't  break  your  promise  of  leaving 
the  R.A.'s  to  their  own  exposure  or  of  fighting  them  only  with 
the  brush.  By  the  bye  I  wi~h  you  would  invent  a  substitute 
for  that  vile  word  '  brush.'  Ancient  writers  spoke  of  their  stile, 
which  we  have  so  far  adopted  as  to  make  the  mere  instrument 
expressive  of  the  genius  that  guided  it.  Modern  writers  have 
their  pen  or  their  muse;  sculptors  have  their  chisel,  all  clean 
and  unobjectionable  utensils,  but  a  brush  is  full  of  mean  and 
dirty  associations,  suggesting  nothing  but  a  clothes  brush,  a 
hearth  brush,  a  blacking  brush.  How  would  it  sound  should 
any  one  contemplating  the  drapery  of  one  of  your  figures  in 
'  Jerusalem,'  exclaim,  "  There  I  recognise  Haydon's  brush ;" 
might  it  not  be  conjectured  that  you  were  his  valet  ?  Pray 
let  the  artists  think  of  a  word  and  double  it,  and  then  take 
away  the  word  they  thought  of  first. 

Adieu,  my  dear  Michel  Angelo ;  may  you  beat  all  your 
rivals  with  the  brush,  and  then  you  will  never  have  your  nose 
broken. 

Yours  cordially, 

Horatio  Smith. 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  Horatio  Smith. 

3ra  June,  1817. 

God  bless  your  precious  eyes.  Pray  keep  them  till 
they  have  conferred  immortality  on  your  name,  for  you  cannot, 
like  Milton,  perpetuate  your  fame  after  you  have  lost  them. 
They  are  public  property,  and  I  am  sure  they  shan't  be  strained 
for  me  when  they  should  be  spared  for  posterity.  Nurse  them, 
nurse  them,  till  you  are  as  lynx-eyed  as  Argus,  and  I  will  then 
give  you  a  call  with  my  little  girl.  She  is  besides  looking 
gaunt  and  grisly  at  present,  and  I  should  be  sorry  to  have  a 
sketch  of  her  ghost  instead  of  herself.  Adieu,  take  care  of 
your  twinklers,  and  tell  your  landlord  that  if  he  gives  you 
another  such  notice  to  quit,  you  are  determined  not  to  wink  at 
it,  for  it  not  only  irritates  you  but  your  pupils. 

Ever  yours, 

Horatio  Smith. 

From  Sir  Datid  Wilkte. 

My  DEAR  HAYDON,  Glasgow,  7th  August,  1817. 

On  leaving  Edinburgh  I  went  up  by  the  steamboat  to 
pay  a  visit  to  Mr.  Dugald  Stewart,  who  lives  in  the  ancient 
house  of  Kenveil  on  the  banks  of  the  Forth.  He  received  me 
very  kindly,  and  I  remained  with  him  for  two  days.  He  lives 
retired,  but  in  good  circumstances,  in  the  same  kind  of  house 
that  I  should  think  Voltaire  must  have  lived  in  when  in 
Switzerland.  His  manner  and  also  that  of  his  family  seems 
highly  cultivated,  but  there  is  really  more  simplicity  about 
him  than  I  expected.  You  would  never  dream  that  he  had 
written  a  book,  and  though  not  a  reserved  man,  he  in  no 
instance  leads  the  conversation  to  his  own  particular  studies. 
You  never  see  him  trying  to  say  a  good  thing  or  a  smart 
thing,  but  with  all  this  you  never  lose  sight  of  his  superiority 
in  learning  aud  information,  and  never  forget  that  you  are  in 
the  presence  of  a  judge,  and  of  an  uncommon  man. 

On  leaving  him  I  went  up  to  Stirling  and  from  thence  to 
Glasgow,  where  one  of  the  first  persons  I  waited  on  Mas  Dr. 
Chalmers.    He  was  really  glad  to  see  me.    One  of  the  first 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


321 


persons  he  inquired  for  was  yourself.  He  takes  a  lively  interest 
I  know  in  all  that  you  are  doing.  I  have  only  now  to  ask  what 
you  are  doing  ? 

Ever  sincerely  yours, 

David  Wilkie. 

From  Canova  (literally  transcribed). 

Kome,  2  De'cembre  1817. 

Je  viens  de  recevoir  la  lettre  que  vous  me  fites  Fhon- 
neur  de  m'  crire  le  dix  du  mois  passe  pour  m'annoncer  l'expe- 
dition  du  platre  de  l'Ulysse  que  vous  m'avez  envoye  a  la  vente. 
Je  la  recu  il  y  a  quelques  semaines,  et  je  croyais  en  remercier  le 
cher  W.  Hamilton  duquel  j'en  avais  ecrit  et  parle  tant  de  fois. 
J'apprends  a  present  que  c'est  vous  qui  avez  voulu  m'en  faire 
un  present,  et  je  vous  prie  de  vouloir  bien  excuser  ma  faute 
innocente  et  d'agreer  les  sentiments  de  mon  ame  reconnaissante 
a  votre  bonte.  Vous  ne  pourriez,  a  vous  dire  vrai,  me  donner 
un  temoigne*  d'amitie  plus  marque,  et  vous  ne  vous  etes  pas 
trompe  sur  le  desir  ardent  que  j'avais  de  posseder  quelques 
morceaux  de  ces  fameux  chefs-d'oeuvre  de  l'art  qui  out  fame 
mon  admiration,  et  qui  feront  to uj  ours  le  sujet  des  envies  des 
artistes. 

Vous  voyez  qu'en  vous  temoignant  ma  haute  reconnaissance, 
je  veux  bien  me  charger  du  devoir  de  vous.  rendre  quelque 
service ;  et  de  vous  prouver  par  les  faits  que  Ton  ne  peut  pas 
etre  plus  sensible  que  je  le  suis  au  precieux  souvenir  que  vous 
daignez  avoir  de  moi,  de  l'estime  dont  vous  m'honorez.  Je 
vous  renouvelle  maintenant  les  assurances  de  mon  respect  et 
la  consideration. 

An.  Canova. 

From  Canova. 

Eoma,  20  Luglio  1818. 

La  vostra  lettera  del  27  dello  scorso  mese  mi  da  una  nova 
testimonianza  del  gentile  animo  vostro  inverso  di  me.  lo  non 
posso  ne  voglio  gareggiare  con  voi ;  e  solamente  mi  rallegro 
dell'  aver  potuto  meritare  tanto  da  voi. 

Certe  e,  che  io  godo  assai  la  vostra  cortese  benevolenza ;  e 
vorrei  saper  darvi  alcun  gagno  della  gratitudine,  da  cui  e  pene- 
trato  il  mio  cuore. 

*  Temoignage. 

vol.  i.  y 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


Spiacemi  non  poter  rispondere  adequatamente  alia  domanda 
che  mi  fate  sull'  epoca  precisa  in  cui  si  credono  esseguite  le 
statue  di  Monte  Cavallo.  Gli  antiquaii  ed  erudite  non  sono 
d'accordo  su  questo  punto ;  e  chi  le  suppone  d'  un  tempo,  e  chi 
di  un  altro  quello  che  sembra  poi  di  dubbio,  si  e  cbe  sono  due 
rispettivi  monumenti  dell'  arte  antica,  e  che  contengono,  per 
modo  di  essprimermi,  gli  elementi  e  quasi  dirci  il  canone  geo- 
metrico  delle  forme  umane  ;  senza  perb  quella  ultima  perfezione 
che  giustamente  voi,  e  tutti  li  conoscitori  veri  desiderano. 

Le  vostre  osservazioni  mi  sembrano  molto  ragionevole  e  ben 
penetrate ;  e  per  esse  aposatemente,  si  vede  come  voi,  profon- 
damente  abbia  penetrato  i  misteri  dell'  arte.  Non  altrimente 
1'  ardito  Belzoni  squarciava  il  velo  delle  tenebre,  coll'  aprirsi 
la  via  nelle  "si  nom"  incognite  piramide  che  sepoli?  di  quella 
ammirabile  nazione. 

Io  sono  grato  della  curiosa  notizia  che  mi  avete  favorito  e 
che  io  comunicai  subito  a  questa  nostra  Eomana  Accademia 
di  Archeologia. 

Non  dovete  prendre  alcuna  meraviglia  dell'  aver  inteso  che 
il  Signor  Hayter  veniva  aggregiato  all'  accademia  di  San  Luca 
mentre  per  fatto  membro  di  [illegible]  non  di  merito,  ma  di 
onore,  e  questo  secondo  grado  non  richiede  salere  ed  eccellenza 
somma  nell'  arte  come  quella  del  Prep.  Con.  Nept.,  il  quale  vera- 
mente  per  suo  proprio  dirittovenne  fatto  nostro  collega  di  merito. 

Cuo  bapti  per  [illegible]  il  vostro  dubbio  su  tale  proposito, 
Mi  preme  infinitamente  di  mandarvi  il  promesso  essempio  in 
gesso  della  una  Yenere,  e  faro  molto  trebbio  di  darvi  con  esso 
un  nuovo  argumento  per  obbligare  maggiormente  la  mia  rico- 
noscenza  alia  singolare  vostra  predilezione  per  me  e  per  le 
opere  mie. 

Ho  terminato  il  colosale  modello  in  creta  rappresentando 
Carlo  III,  He  di  Napoli  e  poi  di  Spagna,  sopra  il  gigantesco 
cavallo  che  devesi  ora  fondere  in  bronzo  per  la  Eeale  Casa  di 
Napoli.  La  prego  di  voler  credere  alia  costante  e  sincera  con- 
siderazione  colla  quale  mi  prego  essere. 

Canova. 

From  Canova. 

Eoma,  18  Giugno  1818 

Ho  ricevuto  la  lettera  del  primo  del  mese  scorso,  con  la 
quale  a  Lei  piaceva  darmi  un  nuovo  attestato  della  sua  gran 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


3*3 


benevolenza.  Sono  molto  riconoscente  alle  lodi  ch'  ella  fa  della 
mia  Venere  acquistata  dal  Signor  Eauchese  di  [illegible]  e  mi 
onerano  multo  le  riflessioni  sue  riguardo  a  quell'  opera,  la  quale 
certamente  non  pub  meritare  tutto  quel  pregio,  ch'  ella  si 
cornpiace  di  attribuirmi.  Cio  per  altro  mi  prova  splendida- 
mente  ch'  il  di  Lei  compatimento  e  favore  alle  opere  mie  e  det- 
tato  piu  dal  cuore  che  dall'  intelleto,  il  quale  si  lascia  guidare 
potentemente  dell'  affezione  verso  1'  autore. 

Mi  piace  sommamente  che  io  posso  darle  un  qualche  segno 
della  mia  gratitudine  e  perche  sembra  di  voler  accettare  un 
gesso  di  qualche  opera  mia,  io  [illegible]  in  tal  effetto  di  man- 
darle  un  gesso  dell'  ultima  Venere  che  ho  modellata  diversa- 
mente  dall'  altra  di  mi.  Ella  conoscia  il  marmo  che  io  cleggio 
esseguire  e  gia  si  abbozza  per  conto  del  Signor  Tommasso 
Hope. 

S'  ella  mal  asperade  giusta  e  mi  sara  molto  caro  ch'  ella  lo 
intenghi  in  segno  della  stima  e  riconoscenza  mia. 

Dallo  resto  io  era  sicuro  che  i  marmi  d'  Elgin  doveano  pro- 
durre  una  specie  di  rivvoluzione  nella  scultura ;  e  sono  lieto 
d'  intendeve  come  il  mio  presagio  abbia  gia  cominciato  ad 
avverarsi,  fatto  la  speciale  di  Lei  scorta. 

II  Signor  Hamilton  mi  ha  scritto  appunto  sul  proposito  del 
Cupido  antico  e  [illegible]  com'  egli  prometti  di  vedere  un  gesso. 

Mi  continui  la  sua  preziosa  amicizia,  e  mi  creda,  con  sensi 
della  piu  perfetta  confidenza  e  d'  attaccamento. 

Canova. 

From  M.  Olenin,  President  of  the  Imperial  Academy  of  Arts  at 
St.  Peter  shir g. 

Sin,  15th  (27th)  November,  1817. 

As  President  of  the  Imperial  Academy  of  Arts  at  St. 
Petersburg,  I  think  it  my  duty  to  thank  you  for  your  kind 
intentions  and  the  particular  marks  of  attention  you  pay  to  this 
important  establishment.  As  for  the  choice  of  the  casts,  I  refer 
to  your  care,  relying  entirely  upon  the  knowledge  you  have  of 
this  art.  As  for  the  value  of  them,  after  what  has  been  said 
by  such  an  eminent  artist  as  M.  Canova,  is  quite  sufficient ;  and 
though  I  have  not  seen  them,  I  am  entirely  contented  with 
what  I  have  seen  in  the  works  entitled  '  The  Elgin  Marbles,'  and 
read  in  '  The  Judgment  of  Connoisseurs  on  Works  of  Art,'  &c. 

Y  2 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


I  hope,  Sir,  that  our  correspondence  will  not  end  here,  and 
that  you  will  be  so  kind  as  to  pursue  it  for  the  benefit  of  arts 
in  Eussia.  As  we  enjoin  the  same  attachment  for  the  same 
cause,  I  have  resolved  to  begin  my  desired  acquaintance  with 
you  by  sending,  for  your  own  use,  some  casts  from  the  best 
remains  of  antiquity  that  are  in  the  possession  of  his  Imperial 
Majesty  at  St.  Petersburg,  as  the  beautiful  bust  of  Achilles,  a 
statue  of  Venus,  a  true  antique  Grecian  work  which  the  connois- 
seurs of  fine  arts  think  to  be  equal  to  the  Venus  of  Medicis,  and 
a  small  statue  of  Silenus,  which  articles  I  hope  you  will  receive 
as  a  mark  of  the  esteem  I  have  for  you,  and  remain 

Alexis  Olenin. 

To  M.  Olenin,  President  of  the  Imperial  Academy  of  Arts  at 
St.  Petersburg. 

SlR,  London,  22nd  January,  1818. 

I  had  the  honour  of  receiving  your  very  flattering  letter, 
and  beg  to  express  my  thanks  to  you  for  your  very  high  opinion 
of  me,  which  1  hope  will  be  increased  and  not  diminished  by  a 
further  knowledge. 

The  present  you  have  sent  me  is  one  of  the  highest  com- 
pliments ever  paid  me  in  my  life :  I  esteem  it  deeply.  To  be 
distinguished  by  eminent  strangers,  where  no  prejudice  is  sup- 
posed to  exist,  is  always  considered  a  complete  sanction  to  any 
high  opinion  of  one's  own  countrymen.  Accept  then,  dear  Sir, 
my  sincere  thanks,  and  be  assured  that  to  continue  a  correspon- 
dence with  you  will  always  be  one  of  my  greatest  pleasures.  I 
hope  that  yon,  as  well  as  the  Imperial  Academy,  will  always 
consider  me  at  their  service  for  the  improvement  of  taste  or  the 
advancement  of  art  in  Eussia.  Depend  on  it  a  new  light  is 
about  to  shine  forth  on  the  world  from  the  preservation  of  the 
Elgin  Marbles. 

I  hope  you  will  do  me  the  honour  to  accept  a  cast  of  the 
Ilissus,  from  the  moulds  first  made  for  me,  the  negro's  body, 
two  of  the  best  bas-reliefs,  and  some  little  fragments.  These 
shall  be  got  ready  immediately  and  be  sent  to  you  without 
delay ;  you  will  then  form  an  idea  from  the  exquisite  fragment 
of  the  rest.  The  cast  of  the  Ilissus,  made  for  my  own  studies, 
was  made  without  including  the  left  arm,  on  which  it  rests, 
because  there  was  drapery,  which  was  of  little  use,  but  it  con- 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


3=5 


tributes  to  the  support  of  the  figure  and  therefore  assists  the 
expression  of  the  action.  This  arm  will  be  in  the  cast  sent  for 
the  Academy.  You  will  thus,  Sir,  be  able  to  judge  of  the  great 
principles  of  these  Divine  things  ;  you  will  then  see  that  Nature 
and  the  inherent  property  of  things  are  never  sacrificed  to  a 
false  and  affected  "beau-ideal."  You  will  see  that  as  the  body 
is  stretched  on  one  side  and  bent  on  the  other — that  the  forms 
of  each  side  vary  in  each  shape  as  the  action  varies,  the  shape 
of  every  part  being  dependent  on  the  action.  This  principle,  so 
simple,  was  never  violated  in  the  best  era  of  Greece :  whether 
they  represented  gods  or  men  (as  they  knew  they  were  obliged 
to  represent  gods  by  human  form),  they  made  the  form  of  their 
gods  subservient  to  the  great  laws  to  which  the  human  form 
must  always  bend.  I  feel  convinced  and  sure  you  will  agree 
with  me  that  there  was  but  one  period  of  art  in  the  world  that 
can  be  called  perfect,  viz.,  the  period  of  Phidias,  whose  great 
principle  was  to  restore  every  object  represented  to  the  qualities 
and  properties  bestowed  on  that  object  at  its  creation,  adapted 
to  its  instincts  and  pursuits  and  cleared  from  the  effects  of 
accident  or  disease.  Thus,  a  god  was  but  a  human  being  in 
his  highest  perfection,  with  none  of  his  properties  violated ;  a 
horse  was  characteristically  a  horse,  a  cow  a  cow,  a  dog  a  dog, 
a  fish  a  fish,  and  so  forth ;  essentially  and  characteristically  a 
horse,  a  cow,  a  dog,  a  fish;  whereas  in  the  time  of  Alexander 
and  of  the  Koman  Emperors  the  artists  then  living  attempte  I 
to  elevate  nature  by  a  violation  of  many  of  the  great  principles 
of  nature,  and  never  suffered  action  or  repose  to  disturb  the 
shape  of  the  figures  they  made,  if  action  or  repose  at  all  inter- 
fered with  the  "  beau-ideal "  of  the  human  form  they  had  fixed 
on  in  their  own  minds  as  a  standard  of  perfection.  This  "  beau- 
ideal  "  was  making  Nature  bend  to  a  capricious  system  of  their 
own,  and  never  bending  their  system  to  the  laws  of  Nature. 
The  ideal  beauty  of  Phidias  was  but  to  restore  to  each  object 
its  essential  qualities  given  by  God,  and  to  leave  them  to  the 
influence  of  action  or  repose,  gravitation  or  compression,  to 
which  all  objects  must  submit,  whatever  be  their  properties, 
"  if  they  think,  act,  walk,  sit,  stand,  run,  or  lie,  in  this  world, 
for  which  they  were  cieated." 

I  have  the  honour,  &c, 

B.  K.  Haydon. 


326 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  William  Hamilton. 

DeAII  IIaydON,  Foreign  Office,  9th  F.brnary,  1818 

The  Archduke  Maximilian  will  be  at  your  Exhibition 
at  1  p.m.  next  Saturday. 

Ever  yours, 

W.  Hamilton. 


To  His  Excellency  M.  Olenin. 

Lon  Ion,  8th  July,  1818. 

I  hope  by  this  time  that  my  casts  of  the  Ilissus,  The- 
seus, and  other  Elgin  fragments,  with  the  cast  of  the  body 
of  the  Negro,  have  arrived  safely,  and  that  they  have  not 
disappointed  yourself,  or  the  other  eminent  members  of  the 
Imperial  Academy.  The  first  shipment  of  casts  for  the  Im- 
perial Academy  are  now  being  packed  and  embarking,  and  full 
particulars  will  be  given  to  you  by  M.  Smernove.  Ike  twelve 
Metopes  and  the  Frieze  I  selected  myself,  and  they  are  as  fine 
casts  as  have  ever  been  taken  from  the  Museum,  the  Metopes 
especially.  The  Theseus  and  Ilissus  I  have  not  seen,  being 
laid  up  in  my  eyes  from  painting  in  too  strong  a  light,  but 
Mr.  Westmacott  assures  me  that  they  are  very  fine  casts,  with 
the  draperies  more  complete  than  in  those  which  I  sent  for 
your  own  private  studio. 

Before  the  Metopes  are  permitted  to  be  seen  they  should  be 
arranged  about  eight  feet  above  the  ground,  and  then  they  will 
have  their  full  effect  upon  the  spectators.  The  Greeks  were 
remarkable  for  sacrificing  everything  to  the  point  of  view,  and 
you  will  find  the  outside  thigh  of  the  Theseus,  though  shorter 
than  the  other  by  that  position  in  nature,  still  a  little  shortened 
for  the  sake  of  effect.  The  reason  for  this  I  take  to  be  as 
follows: — The  Theseus  was  placed,  according  to  Stuart's  'Athens,' 
at  the  extreme  point  in  one  of  the  Pediments.  As  the  best  view 
of  all  the  figures  in  the  Pediment  must  have  been  directly 
opposite  the  centre,  at  a  certain  distance,  had  both  the  thighs 
been  of  the  same  length,  the  outside  thigh  and  knee  would 
have  hidden  the  inside  thigh  and  knee,  and  have  given  the 
figure  a  most  unpleasing  appearance.    Put  by  foreshorten- 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


327 


ing  the  outside  thigh,  and  by  making  it  also  a  little  shorter, 
the  leg  and  thigh  inside  were  seen,  and  the  whole  figure  had 
its  full  effect. 

The  Metopes  and  Frieze  are  evidently  executed  by  different 
hands,  some  parts  being  inferior  to  others ;  but  all  the  large 
figures  of  the  two  Pediments  are  equal  in  excellence.  There  is 
no  variety  in  their  execution:  they  are  all  grand,  elevated, 
sublime,  and  natural.  The  best  account  that  has  yet  appeared 
upon  these  matchless  productions  is  by  Visconti,  which  I  very 
much  regret  I  have  not  sent  to  your  Excellency,  but  which 
I  will  do  the  very  first  opportunity.  And  yet  Visconti  shows 
in  this  work  that  he  is  more  remarkable  for  learning  than  for 
his  taste  or  feeling  for  nature.  He  describes  the  llissus  as  a 
figure  in  strong  action!  It  is  in  the  most  perfect  repose, 
resting  upon  his  arm  and  upon  his  thighs,  one  side  bent, 
and  the  other  stretched,  and  his  bowels  hanging  down,  with- 
out the  least  appearance  of  the  muscles  being  contracted  by 
action. 

This  is  sufficient  to  prove  how  little  connoisseurs  know  of 
the  principles  of  nature.  I  dare  say  M.  Visconti  never  in  his 
life  examined  a  naked  figure  either  in  action  or  repose ;  and 
yet  his  opinion  would  be  quoted,  and  preferred  to  our  opinion, 
who  have  studied  nature  for  the  whole  of  our  lives. 

Had  you  or  I,  Sir,  given  an  opinion  upon  a  passage  in  Greek 
literature,  without  ever  having  read  a  single  Greek  author,  we 
ought  not  to  have  been  very  angry  with  M.  Visconti  if  he  had 
laughed  in  our  faces.  We  only  claim  the  same  privilege  as 
artists. 

I  shall  be  extremely  happy  to  be  of  any  service  to  the 
Imperial  Academy  that  I  can  in  respect  to  the  choice  of 
colours  and  materials  of  art.  Our  small,  red,  sable  brushes  are 
much  superior  to  the  French,  but,  for  the  large  hog's-hair 
brushes,  the  French  are  infinitely  our  superiors.  I  get  all  my 
brushes  of  that  kind  from  Paris. 

We  have  in  England  a  very  fine  deep  lake  called  lac-lake, 
which  we  get  from  India,  and  which  I  feel  convinced  was  used 
by  the  Venetians  in  their  rich  glazing.  It  is  the  only  lake 
that  stands  with  any  certainty. 

1  had  the  honour  last  week  of  being  presented  to  the  Grand 
Duke  Michael  at  the  Elgin  Marbles,  and  of  attending  his  Im- 
perial Highness  round  the  Museum.    He  has  a  most  imposing 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


air,  but  did  not  seem  to  me  to  possess  so  fine  a  taste  for  art  as 
the  Grand  Duke  Nicolas.  Indeed,  I  never  met  with  any  one 
who  felt  their  beauty  more  completely  at  once  than  did  the 
Grand  Duke  Nicolas.  From  what  I  could  judge  of  his  intellect 
and  disposition,  I  should  say  the  Russians  will,  indeed,  be  a 
fortunate  and  happy  nation  if  he  lives  to  become  their  future 
Emperor. 

Believe  me  to  remain, 
Your  Excellency's  most  faithful  and  obedient  servant, 

B.  R.  Haydox. 

Extract  from  a  Letter  to  His  Excellency  M.  Olenin. 

London,  10th  August,  1818. 

It  is  impossible  for  me  to  express  the  pleasure  I  felt  in 
being  informed  by  Mr.  S'mirnove  that  the  casts  from  the  Elgin 
Marbles,  which  I  had  the  honour  to  send  you,  had  safely 
arrived,  and  have  been  received  by  your  Excellency  and  the 
Professors  with  the  true  feeling  of  their  beauties  and  principles 
of  execution.  The  way  in  which  these  marbles  have  been  felt  at 
St.  Petersburg  says  more  for  the  soundness  of  Russian  feeling 
for  art  than  any  other  proof  that  could  have  been  given,  and  I 
have  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  your  great  nation  will  become 
as  celebrated  in  painting  and  sculpture  as  in  every  other 
department  where  intellect  can  be  shown. 

The  Elgin  Marbles  were  never  more  completely  felt  in 
England  than  by  the  expression  in  your  Excellency's  letter, 
and  I  shall  never  forget  to  the  day  of  my  death  the  pleasure  I 
experienced  in  hearing  the  translation  of  the  Russian  Proverb 
which  you  wrote  to  Mr.  Smirnove.  Had  not  the  superiority  of 
the  Elgin  Marbles  been  at  once  acknowledged  in  Russia  over 
what  we  had  hitherto  admired,  I  should  not  have  felt  satisfied 
with  the  promise  given  by  such  judgments,  but  Russian  artists, 
to  see  at  once  their  elevation  above  other  works  of  art,  went  to 
my  soul  like  electricity.  By  the  time  you  receive  this,  I  hope 
the  first  shipment  of  the  great  body  of  casts  will  have  arrived, 
and  that  the  Metopes,  with  the  remainder  of  the  friezes  with 
the  fragments  of  Neptune's  breast  will  completely  confirm 
all  the  high  notions  that  you  have  formed  of  these  divine 
works. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


3-9 


In  the  Neptune's  breast  you  will  observe  a  most  astonishing 
instance  of  the  union  of  a  simple  fact  of  nature  with  the  highest 
abstracted  form.  Under  the  left  arm-pit  you  will  see  a  wrinkle 
of  skin,  which  must  be  so  in  consequence  of  the  arm  being 
down ;  and  thus,  the  space  to  contain  the  same  quantity  of  skin 
not  being  so  great  as  when  the  arm  is  up,  the  skin  of  course 
must  wrinkle.  In  the  other  arm,  which  is  elevated,  the  space 
from  the  side  to  the  arm  being  greater,  the  skin  of  course  must 
be  stretched,  and  there  is  no  wrinkle.  In  the  fragment  of  the 
Negro's  chest  which  I  sent  you,  under  the  left  arm-pit  you  will 
see  the  wrinkle  of  skin.  It  is  for  this  reason  I  cast  the  Negro, 
because  in  the  movement  of  his  body  he  developed  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  Elgin  Marbles.  Now,  Sir,  how  simple  is  this! 
Yet  what  other  artist  but  Phidias  would  have  ventured  to  put 
the  wrinkle  of  human  skin  in  the  form  of  a  God !  On  the 
sides  of  the  ribs  of  the  same  fragment  you  will  also  find  the 
veins  marked,  which  "Winkelniann  and  other  theorists  have  ever 
considered  as  incompatible  with  the  form  of  a  Divinity.  But 
Phidias  knew  that,  as  we  could  only  represent  a  God  by  a 
human  form,  the  finest  human  form,  even  if  for  Jove  himself, 
must  have  had  a  heart,  liver,  and  bowels,  bones,  muscles,  and 
tendons,  and  a  skin  to  cover  all.  Phidias  also  knew  that  if  a 
God  had  a  skin,  it  must  yield  to  flexion  and  tension,  and  con- 
sequently must  be  stretched  or  wrinkled  up;  because  if  his 
skin  could  not  be  stretched  or  wrinkled  up,  it  would  be  of  little 
use  to  the  motion  of  his  body,  and  Jove  himself  would  have 
found  it  very  inconvenient  to  have  had  a  skin  that  would  not 
have  been  so  yielding.  Now,  Sir,  you  will  find  none  of  these 
effects  of  action  or  repose  on  the  skin  of  the  Apollo,  or  on  any 
other  antique  figure  that  we  have  hitherto  admired  ;  and  it  is 
this  union  of  the  truths  and  probabilities  of  common  life,  joined 
to  elevated  and  ideal  nature,  that  goes  at  once  to  our  hearts 
and  sympathies  in  the  Elgin  Marbles,  and  makes  them  superior 
to  all  the  works  of  art  hitherto  known  in  the  world. 

Believe  me  to  remain, 

With  every  expression  of  my  respect, 

Your  faithful  servant, 


B,  B.  Ha ydon. 


330 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


Extract  from  a  Letter  to  His  Excellency  M.  Olentn-. 

I  hope  M.  Smirnove  has  informed  you  of  the  extreme 
delight  I  experienced  on  receiving  your  handsome  present  of 
casts.  They  have  answered  all  the  expectations  you  had  led 
me  to  form  of  their  excellence.  The  head  of  the  Silenus,  for 
beauty  of  execution  and  intense  truth  of  expression,  is  one  of 
the  finest  specimens  I  know  of  Greek  sculpture.  It  is  uni- 
versally admired,  and  has  made  a  great  noise  among  those 
whose  judgment  I  estimate.  The  swing  of  the  body,  the  pro- 
trusion of  the  bowels  from  the  action  of  leaning,  the  pressure 
of  the  muscles  of  the  left  arm  and  shoulder,  as  well  as  the 
hanging  over  of  the  pectoral  muscles,  from  the  skin  being 
filled  out  with  fat,  as  well  as  the  delicacy  of  the  hands,  has  so 
much  the  character  of  a  fat  man.  With  respect  to  the  Venus 
the  trunk  is  singularly  beautiful ;  the  legs,  feet,  and  head,  I 
think  very  inferior ;  but  the  trunk  is  superior  certainly  to  the 
Venus  de  Medicis,  and,  being  of  a  younger  age,  has  a  more 
agreeable  character.  The  lower  part  of  the  trunk  of  the 
Venus  de  Medicis  has  the  skin  wrinkled  ....  all  proofs  of 
great  truth  and  knowledge  of  nature  in  the  sculptor.  In  the 
Venus  which  you  have  done  me  the  honour  to  send  from  the 
Palais  de  la  Tauride,  the  skin  is  tight,  &c,  &c.  It  is,  indeed,  a 
most  beautiful  statue,  and  has  all  the  air  of  a  fresh  and  pure 
Virgin,  young,  elastic,  and  lovely,  uninjured  by  the  passions  of 
our  nature,  and  without  having  suffered  from  the  anxieties  of 
life.  I  venture  to  think  the  bending  of  the  body  and  its  con- 
sequences upon  the  fore-part  more  perfect  than  in  the  Venus 
de  Medicis.  The  slenderness  of  its  lovely  waist,  and  "  la  sou- 
plesse  gracieuse  "  of  the  hips  are  beyond  all  expression.  .  .  . 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

From  Soutiiey. 

My  DEAR  SlTf,  Keswick,  27tli  March,  1818. 

Your  letter  travelled  by  the  Wagon  and  did  not  reach 
me  till  Wednesday  last.  I  answer  it  by  the  first  post.  The 
will  and  the  desire  to  be  instrumental  in  bringing  about  so 
great  an  object*  are  not  wanting,  but  you  will  not  suspect  me  of 

*  The  decoration  of  our  churches  and  cathedrals  by  paintings  of  sacred 
Bubjeots. — liu. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


331 


any  affectation  of  diffidence,  when  I  express  a  distrust  of  my 
competence  for  the  task.  I  have  arrived  at  that  time  of  life, 
and  that  state  of  mind  in  which  men  learn  their  own  weakness 
and  their  own  ignorance,  if  they  are  ever  capable  of  attaining 
to  that  knowledge.  In  matters  of  art  I  am  entirely  ignorant: 
for  although  I  never  should  be  pleased  with  a  bad  picture,  and 
can  feel,  I  believe,  the  full  merit  of  certain  pictures,  as  far  as 
relates  to  their  conception  and  effects,  other  works  which  are 
acknowledged  to  be  of  the  highest  excellence  have  little  or 
none  to  me — a  decisive  proof  that  I  have  not  the  faculty 
required  for  relishing  them. 

This,  however,  is  in  my  power.  I  can  take  your  pamphlet 
for  my  text,  repeat  its  arguments,  and  enforce  them  as  well  as 
I  am  able,  and  then  cast  the  bread  upon  the  waters.  Furnish 
me,  therefore,  with  the  needful  facts,  and  then  no  time  shall 
be  lost. 

The  light  you  have  followed  has  been  a  light  from  heaven, 
and  let  happen  what  will,  you  are  on  the  summit. 

Oh  !  never  let  us  doubt  the  elevation  of  this  glorious  country 
in  Art  as  well  as  in  arms,  and  in  general  happiness  as  well  as 
in  arts,  if  we  can  but  preserve  it  from  the  bestial  mob  rule 
which  would  involve  everything  in  one  common  destruction. 
I  see  the  danger  distinctly,  and  while  I  live  will  stand  up 
manfully  against  it.  I  have  hitherto  had  little  reason  to 
distrust  my  own  foresight  in  political  affairs,  reasoning  from 
the  past  to  the  present,  and  the  more  I  regard  the  aspects 
of  these  times  the  worse  they  appear.  And  yet,  were  there 
but  one  vigorous  mind  at  the  helm  all  might  be  well,  one 
man,  who  had  full  confidence  in  himself,  and,  therefore,  could 
claim  and  command  the  confidence  of  the  great  well-meaning 
majority  of  the  people.  Alas !  all  Revolutions  have  been  brought 
about  by  a  few  knaves  acting  upon  a  multitude  of  fools — while 
honest  men  have  lain  quiet — till  they  became  the  victims. 

Believe  me  yours,  with  the  highest  respect, 

Robert  Southey. 

From  Southey. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Keswick,  3rd  April,  1818. 

Your  packet  is  safe.  You  have  made  me  see  the 
subject  clearly  and  feel  it  strongly.    AYhat  I  can  do  shall  be 


332 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


done  without  delay,  though  probably  not  in  time  for  the 
number  of  the  '  Quarterly  Review '  now  printing,  for  that,  I 
believe,  will  speedily  be  published.  But  I  will  lose  no  time, 
and  will  endeavour  to  lose  as  little  as  possible  of  the  life  aud 
spirit  of  your  pleading. 

I  thank  you  for  what  you  have  told  me  of  yourself.  It  is  in 
such  things  that  true  heroism  is  displayed,  and  how  much  of 
this  is  there  in  the  world,  of  which  the  world  knows  nothing  ! 
God  bless  you,  my  dear  Sir,  and  may  you  live  to  reap  the  rich 
rewards  of  that  fame  which  you  have  so  amply  deserved. 
Believe  me,  with  the  greatest  respect, 

Sincerely  yours, 

Robert  South  ey. 

From  his  Aunt,  Mrs.  Partridge. 

Mi'  DEAR  BENJAMIN,  Ard.nza  7th  April  1818. 

I  received  your  letter  of  the  3rd  February,  and  should 
have  answered  it  immediately,  but  I  was  desirous  first  to  see 
the  bust  you  had  sent  to  me,  and  then  to  procure  for  you  the 
paint  you  desired,  for  which  I  wrote  to  a  Russian  lady  at 
Rome,  who  politely  purchased  the  particular  yellow  at  the 
shop  you  directed,  and  sent  it  by  a  private  hand  to  Leghorn. 
I  have  sent  it  off  to  you  this  morning  by  packet.  I  must 
thank  you  for  the  fine  bust,  which  arrived  perfectly  safe.  I 
brought  it  myself  yesterday  in  the  carriage  to  Ardenza,  where 
I  hope  it  will  remain,  for  many  years,  an  ornament  to  the 
habitation  and  an  honour  to  the  inhabitants.  The  cast  sent 
by  David  does  not  please  in  general,  though  many,  who  I 
suppose  are  judges,  discover  in  the  form  of  the  head  both 
capacity  and  genius.  If  Lavater  had  contemplated  it,  he 
would  have  approached  the  lines  in  due  order  and  have  done 
justice  to  the  original.  But  the  bust  makes  a  more  pleasing 
jm  tression  on  our  weak  minds  from  the  advantage  of  the  hair 
i.nd  eyes. 

My  dear  nephew,  if  the  Duchess  of  Parma*  visits  our 
country  you  may  depend  upon  her  coming  to  your  studio. 
The  princess  is  an  amateur  in  painting,  with  a  cultivated 

*  Sialic  Louiso,  Ex-Empi  css  of  the  French. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


353 


mind,  improved  by  her  eventful  life.  She  understands 
English,  has  read  our  best  authors  with  attention,  and  pur- 
chases every  new  publication.  I  cannot,  however,  give  you 
much  hopes  of  seeing  her  in  England.  The  European  Powers 
will  never  consent  to  such  a  project  during  the  life  of  Buona- 
]  arte.  The  little  boy  (the  King  of  Eome)  does  not  resdde  with  his 
mother.  He  is  educated  under  the  Emperor  of  Austria,  and,  I 
understand,  is  a  smart  animated  child.  The  Duchess  told  me 
she  had  not  seen  her  son  for  three  years,  but  hoped  to  go  to 
Vienna  this  spring. 

I  have  the  pleasure  to  tell  you  that  the  Mordwinoffs  are 
all  (except  their  married  daughter)  coming  to  pay  a  visit  to 
the  Ardenza  this  year.  The  Emperor  has  graciously  granted 
Mordwinoff  two  years'  absence  to  travel  and  complete  the 
education  of  his  son.  Their  route  is  to  be  Germany,  Italy, 
France,  England  and  Sweden :  so  you  will  see  them  in 
London.  You  will  be  much  pleased  and  gratified  with  your 
uncle,  who  possesses  the  finest  abilities  with  an  excellent  heart 
and  disposition.  How  goes  on  your  picture  ?  Great  expecta- 
tions are  raised,  and  sincerely  do  I  desire  its  success — here 
enters  a  little  of  self,  for  in  such  a  case  we  might  flatter  our- 
selves with  the  hope  of  seeing  you  in  Italy,  which,  do  me 
justice  to  believe,  would  give  real  pleasure  to  your  most 
AfJectionate  aunt, 

E.  Pakteidge. 

From  His  Excellency  the  Count  Bombilles,  Charge 
d'affaires,  dec. 

MY  DEAK  SlE,  Lisbon,  18th  April,  1818. 

It  is  here  where  I  have  now  been  residing  these  ten 
months  that  I  received  the  copy  of  your  last  publication,  which 
you  were  so  hind  to  send  me.  This  mark  of  remembrance  was 
particularly  gratifying  to  me,  and  I  hope  the  place  from  which 
I  date  this  letter  will  be  the  best  apology  for  my  having  so 
long  delayed  returning  you  my  best  thanks. 

I  think  you  have,  in  your  pamphlets,*  very  successfully 
defended  a  very  good  cause,  and  aware,  as  I  am,  of  the  sound 

*  Pamphlets  on  'New  Churches,'  aud  '  Elgin  Marbles,'  &c.,  &o. 


331 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


judgment  that  has  ever  distinguished  your  nation,  and  of  the 
taste  for  real  beauty  and  fine  arts,  which  is  now  more  than  ever 
diffused  amongst  its  members,  I  do  not  doubt  that  a  glorious 
issue  will  crown  your  noble  efforts. 

If  ever  my  fate  brings  me  back  to  England,  one  of  the 
things  that  will  cause  me  some  real  pleasure  will  certainly  be 
the  sight  of  your  great  picture  in  its  state  of  perfection. 
Those  parts  which  were  finished  when  I  was  in  London  gave 
me  already  a  very  high  opinion  of  it.  Not  that  I  should  boast 
of  being  a  connoisseur,  which  I  am  very  far  from,  but  when  a 
picture  speaks  to  our  feelings,  whoever  is  not  utterly  deprived 
of  that  better  part  of  ourself  may  become  a  judge  as  to  its 
intellectual  worth. 

I  am  now  in  a  country  where  the  fine  arts  stand  very  low, 
but  in  the  case  that,  here  or  anywhere  else,  I  could  be  of  any 
service  to  you,  it  would  certainly  afford  me  great  pleasure  to 
give  you  a  proof  of  the  esteem  and  perfect  consideration, 
with  which 

I  am,  dear  Sir, 

Your  humble  and  obedient  servant, 
Th.  Hombilles, 
Charge  d'affaires  to  H.  I.  M.  the  Emperor  of  Austria. 

A  M.  le  Comte  de  Bombilles,  Charge  d'affaires  de  8.M. 
VEmp.  d'Autriche  a  Lisbonne. 

ClIER  M.  LE  COMTE,  London,  27th  May,  1818. 

I  was  exceedingly  happy  to  find  you  had  received  my 
little  pamphlet  and  that  it  met  your  approbation.  It  has  also 
met  with  the  approbation  of  all  the  leading  men  here,  much 
more  so,  indeed,  than  I  expected.  The  pamphlet  will  not 
effect  its  object  at  once,  but  it  is  one  step  towards  it.  Great 
revolutions  are  not  brought  about  in  a  moment.  Everybody 
acknowledges  the  truth  of  what  I  have  endeavoured  to  express, 
but  Government  says  that  it  cannot  afford  to  spare  any  money 
yet  for  the  public  encouragement  of  painting.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  Government  will  do  so  in  the  end,  as  the  state  of 
the  country  is  improving  fast. 

I  can  assure  you  I  value  the  opinion  of  one  who  judges 
wholly  from  what  he  feels  in  preference  to  that  of  the  greatest 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


335 


connoisseur,  who  generally  judges  without  any  feeling  at  all. 
You  may  not  know  anything  of  the  art  of  painting  as  an  art, 
but  of  the  expression,  the  character,  and  whether  the  story  be 
well  or  ill  told,  you  can  judge,  and  so  can  every  one  of  general 
good  taste  for  the  pathos  or  the  beauty  of  nature.  Every  man 
cannot  tell  how  Raphael's  cartoons  were  executed,  but  every 
man  can  feel  whether  the  passion  be  well  expressed,  because 
that  refers  to  the  general  feelings  of  our  hearts,  while  the  other 
is  wholly  addressed  to  an  acquired  sensation,  the  result  of 
professional  experience. 

Since  I  had  the  honour  of  seeing  you  I  have  removed  into  a 
nice  house,  with  a  very  large  atelier,  such  a  one,  indeed,  as  no 
painter,  in  Paris  or  London,  can  exceed  for  light,  air,  and 
convenience.  My  other  rooms  were  too  small,  and  my  health 
suffered  very  much  from  confinement,  so  that,  unfortunately, 
my  picture  was  delayed  coming  out  this  season,  but  I  hope  to 
complete  it  by  the  next.  I  have  finished  all  the  heads  but  the 
head  of  Christ,  and  that  I  hope  to  finish  in  the  next  fortnight. 
I  can  assure  you  it  has  occupied  my  mind  night  and  day  for 
the  last  three  months,  and  I  hope  to  God  I  shall  be  permitted 
to  give  a  new  idea  of  His  Divine  face  to  the  world.  JMay  I 
prove  that  this  is  no  presumption ! 

I  shall  be  most  happy  to  hear  from  you  again,  and  I  hope 
you  will  not  remove  to  a  new  country  without  honouring  me  by 
information  

We  have  this  year  a  very  fine  exhibition  of  Italian  and 
Flemish  Schools  at  the  British  Gallery,  and  which  will  do 
great  good  to  the  public  taste.  Theie  is  every  reason,  I  think, 
to  expect  that  we  shall  at  last  rear  our  heads  in  painting.  If 
I  can  only  see  my  glorious  country  as  high  in  historical 
painting  as  she  is  in  every  other  department,  I  shall  die 
content.  I  have  but  this  wish  on  earth,  and  I  will  devote  my 
life  to  accomplish  it.  You  must  own  that  eminent  foreigners 
have  hitherto  judged  us  unjustly  with  regard  to  the  arts. 
They  invariably  attr.buted  our  not  shining  in  them  to  a 
natural  incapacity,  when  it  was  entirely  owing  to  local  causes, 
which  are  fast  removing.  But  I  am  afraid  I  fatigue  you, 
so  pray 

Believe  me,  with  great  respect, 

Yours  most  faithfully, 

B.  K.  Haydon. 


336 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  M.  Ham  el. 
MY  DEAR  SlR,  15lh  June,  1818. 

I  am  again  in  the  metropolis  of  dear  England,  and 
slmuld  be  happy  to  see  you,  but  it  must  be  to-day  or  to-mor- 
row, for  1  am  going  out  of  town  with  the  Grand  Duke  Michael. 
I  got  your  letter  iu  Paris.  Have  you  seen  the  Grand  Duke  ? 
How  far  are  your  people  advanced  towards  '  Jerusalem  ?'  Let 
me  hear  from  you.  At  any  rate  I  shall  hope  to  see  you  after 
our  return. 

Believe  me,  yours  most  truly, 

P.  Hamel. 

To  William  Hamilton,  Esq.,  Foreign  Office. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  London,  9th  July,  1818. 

I  wrote  you  a  note  and  sent  it  to  the  Foreign  Office 
about  a  week  ago,  thinking  you  were  in  town,  but  I  heard  after- 
wards you  had  gone  to  Scotland.  It  will  perhaps  be  in  your 
power,  now  you  are  there,  to  bring  me,  when  you  return,  or  send 
me  by  post,  an  accurate  profile  drawing,  about  the  miniature 
size,  of  Lord  Elgin's  head.  You  would  oblige  me  very  much 
indeed  by  acceding  to  my  request,  as  we  have  long  been  con- 
templating a  medal  struck  with  the  'Theseus'  on  one  side,  and 
Lord  Elgin's  head  on  the  other.  The  drawing  of  the  '  Theseus ' 
is  already  finished,  and  the  business  only  waits  for  an  authentic 
likeness  of  Lord  Elgin. 

I  am  still  suffering  in  my  eyes,  and  am  obliged  to  employ 
a  friend,  even  to  write  this  letter.  An  Italian  pupil  of  Canova's 
has  entered  himself  as  a  student  at  the  Elgin  Marbles  for  two 
years,  and  we  expect  two  Spaniards  will  shortly  do  the  same 
thing.  Italians  and  Spaniards  coming  to  study  the  art  in 
England !  This  is  as  it  should  be,  and  but  the  commencemeut 
of  part  of  the  glory  that  will  accrue  to  the  country  from  their 
purchase.  If  you  are  near  Lord  Elgin,  I  hope  you  will  read 
this  to  him. 

Though  Visconti  did  great  good  by  his  publication  on  the 
Elgin  Marbles  at  the  time,  and  his  conjectures  as  to  whom  they 
represented,  are  perhaps  without  objection,  yet  his  notion  as 
to  the  Ilissus  being  in  action,  and  his  opinions  concerning  the 
style  of  the  marbles,  are  completely  erroneous,  which  I  intend 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


337 


to  prove  in  a  short  paper.  I  shall  ha^e  an  etching  of  the 
Ilissus,  and  undeniably  prove  that  the  Gladiator,  the  Torso, 
and  the  Laocoon,  are  as  opposite  in  style  to  the  Elgin  Marbles 
as  any  two  things  can  possibly  be. 

The  first  shipment  of  the  casts  for  Russia  are  embarked. 
Those  I  sent  in  April,  by  this  time,  I  suppose,  are  arrived,  and 
I  am  anxious  to  bear  what  effect  they  have  had.  With  my 
respects  to  Mrs.  Hamilton, 

Pray  believe  me  truly  and  faithfully  yours, 

13.  E.  Haydon. 

P.S. — I  desire  my  respects  also  to  Lord  Elgin.  I  attended 
the  Grand  Duke  Michael  round  the  marbles  the  other  day.  He 
did  not  seem  to  have  the  taste  of  his  brother,  the  Grand 
Duke  Nicolas,  nor  to  feel  their  beauties  half  so  strongly.  He 
exclaimed,  "Que  la  ganache  du  cheval  etait  cassee!"  which 
showed  that  he  did  not  feel  much  this  fine  fragment. 

B.  R.  H. 

From  William  Hamilton. 

DEAR  HAYDON,  Foreign  Office  (no  date),  1818. 

If  you  have  a  mind  to  go  to  Italy  free  of  expense,  I 
think  I  can  accommodate  you  with  a  b  ig  of  dispatches  as  far 
as  Naples.    If  you  agree,  pray  let  me  see  you  in  a  day  or  two. 

Yours, 

Wm.  Hamilton. 

From  William  Hamilton. 

DEAR  HaYDON,  Foreign  Office,  28th  October,  1818. 

In  the  hopes  of  seeing  you  to-day  (I  was  prevented 
coming  to  the  office  as  early  as  I  ought),  I  had  omitted  to  say 
in  my  letter  of  yesterday  that  you  need  not  travel  with  courier 
rapidity,  nor  need  to  travel  by  night,  unless  you  prefer  it. 
We,  of  course,  should  not  wish  you  to  linger  on  the  road,  but 
it  is  not  an  affair  of  life  or  death,  and  we  shall  pay  you  the 
full  expenses  of  a  postchaise,  &c. 

Yours, 

Wm.  Hamilton, 
vol.  l  z 


333 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


We  should  be  ready  about  the  end  of  th:s  week ;  but  a  few 
days  diday  is  of  no  consequence;  indeed  I  had  rather  say 
Tuesday  or  Wednesday  in  next  week. 

Yours, 
W.  H. 

We  might  probably  arrange  also  for  the  expenses  of  your 
return.* 

W.  H. 


From  Edward  du  Eois. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  7th  January,  1819. 

I  have  found  '  Hunt's  Pocket-book '  not  only  agreeable, 
but  useful,  for  it  has  instructed  me  touching  your  whereabouts. 

Had  I  known  your  address  before,  I  should  have  thanked 
you  for  your  kind  and  friendly  attention.  I  availed  myself  of 
your  note,  and  visiting  the  British  Gallery,  had  my  reward. 
Your  pupils  are  worthy  of  their  master,  and  let  them  rest  their 
fame  on  that.  To  you  I  say  what  was  never  before  said  to 
man,  "  Bring  forth  male  children  only,  for  thy  undaunted 
mettle  should  compose  nothing  but  males." 

When  the  ducks  have  eaten  up  all  the  dirt,  I  mean  to  seek 
you  in  '  The  Grove,'  and  treat  myself  with  a  sight  of  your  idol. 

I  know  what  you  have  done. 

"  Nescio  quid  majus  nascitur." 

Yours,  truly, 

Ed.  du  Bois. 


From  Sir  George  Beaumont. 

My  dear  SiR, 


^*«>  zvm  ivovemDer,  isis. 

Although  I  agree  with  you  that  the  practice  of  per- 
»  young  students  to  paint,  before  they  have  a  competent 


mitting  young 


*  Haydon  was  nt  this  time  in  the  midst  of  Ms  '  Jerusalem,'  and  his  position  in 
tlie  ait  did  not,  in  his  own  opinion,  justify  him  iu  leaving  England.  He  there- 
fore declined  Mr.  Hamilton's  kind  oiler. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


339 


knowledge  of  drawing,  lias  been  carried  too  far,  and  been  pro- 
ductive of  much  evil,  yet  I  think  the  opposite  extreme  is  to 
be  equa'ly  avoided.  An  artist's  eye  ought  certainly  to  be 
before  his  hand,  or  he  will  never  improve ;  but  if  it  has 
too  great  an  advantage,  he  will  be  discouraged.  The  ques- 
tion with  me  is,  whether  these  young  men,  with  whom  you 
have  taken  such  laudable  pains  to  instruct,  and  who  have  pro- 
duced drawings  which  have  met  with  so  much  approbation, 
may  not,  when  they  have  to  contend  with  the  entirely  different 
and  far  more  difficult  practice  of  the  pencil,  and  consequently 
produce  pictures  vexatiously  inferior  to  their  drawings,  give  up 
the  new  art  as  hopeless ;  or,  as  other  eminent  artists  have  done 
who  were  devoted  to  drawing,  persuade  themselves  colouring  was 
a  matter  of  no  consequence !  You,  who  are  acknowledged  to 
possess  an  exquisite  taste  for  this  delicious  ornament  of  art, 
will,  I  know,  deprecate  such  a  consequence,  at  any  rate.  Surely, 
as  the  pencil  is  the  weapon  with  which  they  have  to  fLht  their 
way  to  fame,  it  would  be  better  they  should  paint  their  drawings, 
even  if  it  were  with  two  colours. 

Indeed  I  cannot  but  think  your  objection  to  an  early  use  of 
the  pencil  has  arisen,  in  a  great  measure,  from  the  abuse  of  it, 
for  I  cannot  but  agree  with  Sir  Joshua  that  both  arts  may  be 
acquired  at  the  same  time,  and  it  is  the  business  of  the  teacher 
to  take  care  that  the  fascination  of  colour  does  not  beguile 
them  into  negligence  of  drawing.  I  believe  it  is  generally 
acknowledged  that,  if  exquisite  colouring  could  be  superadded 
to  correct  design,  a  perfect  work  would  be  produced — at  least, 
superior  to  anything  yet  known  in  art. 

It  is  to  be  observed  that  of  those  artists  who  have  eminently 
excelled  in  the  ornamental  branches  of  colouring  and  pencil 
have  left  few  drawings,  and  that  those  whose  drawings  we 
possess  in  abundance,  if  their  pictures  are  not  positively  dry 
and  inlaid,  yet  they  do  not  possess  the  relish  and  fascination 
of  the  Venetian  and  Flemish  artists. 

Now  I  think  this  seems  to  teach  that  both  have  been  ex- 
treme cases,  and  that  a  middle  course  is  the  best  chance  of 
producing  the  desired  effect.  Life  is  too  short  to  afford  three 
or  four  years  to  drawing  only. 

Believe  me,  yours  sincerely, 

Geo.  Beaumont. 


2 


340 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  Goethe,  on  receiving  his  copies  of  the  '  Theseus '  and 
'  Fates,'  by  Bewick. 

►SlR,  Weimar,  ICth  February,  1819. 

In  answer  to  your  polite  letter  which  you  did  rne  the 
honour  of  addressing  to  me  last  November,  permit  me  to  re- 
mark that  if  such  young  men  as  Messrs.  Bewick  and  Landseer 
have  great  reason  to  rejoice  at  having  found  in  you  so  able  and 
so  distinguished  a  master,  you  must,  on  the  other  hand,  feel  an 
equal  degree  of  satisfaction  to  have  had  it  in  your  power  to 
bring  your  pupils  acquainted  with  such  excellent  models  as 
those  which  your  country  of  late  has  had  the  good  fortune  to 
acquire.* 

Those  of  us  at  Weimar  who  love  and  admire  the  arts  share 
your  enthusiasm  for  the  remains  of  the  most  glorious  period, 
and  hold  ourselves  indebted  to  you  for  having  enabled  us  to 
participate,  to  such  a  degree,  in  the  enjoyment  and  contempla- 
tion of  those  works  by  means  of  such  happy  copies. 

We  look  forward  with  pleasure  (though  we  may  not  live  to 
witness  it)  to  the  incalculable  effect  and  influence  which  will 
be  produced  upon  the  arts  by  those  precious  relics,  in  England 
as  well  as  in  other  countries. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be,  with  great  regard,  Sir, 

Your  most  obedient,  humble  servant, 

J.  W.  Goethe. 

From  Sir  George  Beaumont. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  No  date,  1819. 

I  confess  I  am  sorry  you  have  answered  your  opponents. 
Depend  on  it  they  will  think  you  wounded  and  redouble  their 
attacks  ;  your  peace  will  be  disturbed,  and  your  time  consumed 
in  this  unprofitable  and  detestable  warfare. 

Abjure  your  pen,  seize  your  pencil,  exert  the  powers  with 
which  Nature  has  so  amply  supplied  you,  and  paint  them  into 
the  earth  1 

You  know  this  was  always  my  advice,  and  I  really  think  had 
there  been  no  such  thing  as  a  pen  in  the  world,  all  your  wishes 
would  have  been  accomplished  long  ago. 

*  The  Elgin  Marblcs.-Er>. 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


341 


Excuse  my  zeal  for  your  welfare,  and  believe  me  to  be  your 
sincere  well-wisher, 

G.  H.  Beaumont. 

From  one  of  his  Pupils. 

MY  DEAR  HONOURED  SlR,  7th  August,  1819. 

I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  ask  a  few  friends  (Mr. 
Thomson  and  part  of  his  family)  to  see  your  picture.  Under 
ycur  leave  I  will  call  with  them  to-morrow  between  the  hours 

of  one  and  three  

I  remain,  dear  Sir,  your  devoted  son  (for  you  have  ever  beeu 
a  father  to  me), 

Edward  Chatfield.* 
From  His  Excellency  the  Count  Mordwinoff. 

Liverpool,  13  Aout  1819. 

Nous  ne  vous  avons  pas  ecrit,  mon  cher  Haydon,  car  nous 
n'avions  rien  a  vous  ecrire,  excepte  les  assurances  de  nos 
affections  dont  vous  pouviez  etre  assure  sans  des  protestations 
de  notre  part.  Votre  tres-affectionnee  tante  craint  pour  vos 
yeux,  et  je  suis  d'accord  avec  elle  qu'ils  doivent  etre  menage*, 
car  si  vous  devenez  aveugle  vous  ne  ferez  pas  le  nombre  de 
tableaux  que  Raphael  a  produit  et  repandu  dans  les  regions  les 
plus  eloignees  de  lTtalie.  Je  veux  voir  les  votres  en  Russie 
apres  que  votre  imagination  sera  temperee  et  plus  frugale  en 
nombre.  Venez  vous  associer  aupres  des  Madonnas  et  des 
Eves  romaines,  qui  sont  jalouses  des  regards  des  amateurs  et 
veulent  les  avoir  fixes  sur  elles  seules.  Nous  quittons  Liverpool 
en  peu  de  jours  pour  voir  Notre  oncle  Cobley  a  Wells.  Vers  la 
fin  d'Aout  nous  ser<  >ns  a  Londres.  Harriet  et  toute  la  famille 
vous  saluent  tendrement. 

Mordwinoff. 
From  His  Excellency  the  Count  Mordwinoff. 

Londres,  29  Anut  1819. 

Je  vous  envoie,  mon  cher  neveu,  deux  coffres  pour  lesquels 
vous  aurez  la  bonte  de  trouver  une  petite  place  chez  vous  jusqu'a 

*  Edward  Chatfield  was  another  of  those  many  young  boys  who  came  to 
Haydon  to  a?k  advice,  and  staid  to  get  instruction. — Ed. 


342 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


notre  retour.  Je  vous  ai  ecrit  hier  pour  les  chevaux.  Nous 
serions  charmes  de  partir  demain  matin  a  sept  heures. 

Je  vous  salue  de  tout  mon  cceur.  Nous  vous  attendons  au- 
jourd'hui  dans  la  journee,  apres  que  vous  aurez  donne  quelques 
grands  coups  de  pinceaux  pour  faire  arriver  toute  l'assemblee 
iuive,  qui  se  presse  en  foule  de  sortir  de  votre  Tableau,  pour 
crier:  "Hosanna  a  l'imniortel  Haydon,  le  Benjamin  des  Chre- 
tiens."   Adieu ! 

Mohdwinoff. 

To  Lord  Elgin. 

My  LORD,  No  dale,  1819. 

Your  kind  letter  gave  me  great  pVasure,  as  all  your 
le'ters  must.  You  will  be  sorry  to  hear  of  the  death  of  poor 
ynung  Harlowe,  who  distinguished  himself  so  much  at  Rome. 
He  was  a  young  man  of  very  great  promise,  and  had  be -ome 
very  sensible  to  bis  faults  by  seeing  the  fine  works  in  Italy. 
He  caught  cold  on  the  Alps  by  getting  out  of  a  warm  coach  to 
make  a  sketch  in  the  snow.  He  got  worse  daily.  I  attended 
bis  funeral  on  Tuesday  last.  He  was  honourably  and  respect- 
ably buried. 

There  is  every  reason  to  believe  Belzoni  is  still  living. 

I  hope  your  Lordship  has  received  a  small  essay  of  mine  on 
a  comparison  between  the  Elgin  horse's  head  and  the  Venetian 
horse's  head,  by  Lysippus,  in  which  I  have  proved  the 
superiority  in  essence  and  style  of  the  Elgin  horse's  head  over 
the  other. 

I  sent  it  to  you  through  the  Foreign  Office  about  two  months 
since. 

I  have  read  with  great  pleasure  Quatremere  de  Quincy's 
'  Letters,'  addressed  to  you  from  London.  ( )ne  likes  to  see 
one's  conviction,  as  an  artist,  of  the  superiority  of  these  divine 
works  sanctioned  by  so  celebrated  an  antiquary,  and  though,  if 
he  had  doubted  them,  it  would  not  have  shaken  my  belief, 
founded  as  it  is  upon  the  unalterable  principles  of  nature,  yet 
it  is  a  pleasure  to  tind  him  of  the  same  opinion.  He  says  that 
he  thinks  Phidias  went  over,  with  his  own  hand,  the  large 
figures  of  the  Pediment.  Indeed,  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  it. 
In  the  large  figures  of  the  pedestal  there  is  no  difference  of 
style.  The  same  mighty  hand  reigns  throughout,  whereas  in  the 
MetoA  es  and  frieze  there  is  a  difference  in  style. 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


343 


It  was  also  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  see  that  Q.  de  Q.  says 
in  the  large  figures  by  Phidias  there  was  perhaps  less  of  his  own 
hand  than  in  the  marble  figures  from  the  great  number  of 
workmen  be  was  obliged  to  employ. 

I  am  happy  to  be  able  to  tell  your  Lordship  that  Taste  is 
advancing  with  rapid  strides  in  England,  and  that,  in  order  to 
feel  the  puis?,  as  it  were,  of  the  p  ople,  I  collected  all  the 
large  drawings  of  my  pupils  from  the  Cartoons  and  Elgin 
Marbles,  and  arranged  them  for  exhibition.  I  had  a  private 
day,  and  the  most  distinguished  nobility  all  attended,  and  then 
opened  the  exhibition  to  the  public  for  a  short  time.  To  the 
astonishment  of  those  who  denied  the  taste  of  the  English 
nation,  chalk  drawings,  without  any  of  the  common  attractions 
of  colour,  and  light  and  shadow,  which  have  always  been 
thought  indispensable  to  an  English  exhibition,  were  en- 
thusiastically received  by  the  public,  the  nobility,  the  ministers, 
foreign  ambassadors,  &c. 

I  consider  this  success  to  be  the  greatest  point  hitherto 
gained  in  English  art,  and  doubt  not  of  its  ultimately  leading 
to  the  most  favourable  results. 

Believe  me, 

B.  R.  Haylon. 

To  Mrs.  SlDDONS. 
MADAM,  St.  John's  Wood  Place,  March  27th,  1820. 

I  hope  I  may  be  pardoned  for  venturing  to  express 
again  my  gratitude  for  your  unhesitating  decision  on  Saturday. 

I  have  ever  estimated  you,  Madam,  as  the  great  high 
priestess  at  the  shrine  of  Nature;— as  the  only  being  living 
who  had  ever  been,  or  who  was  worthy  to  be  admitted  within 
the  veil  of  her  temple ;— as  one  whose  immortality  was  lono- 
since  decided.  You  will  then  judge  of  my  feelings  at  having 
been  so  fortunate  as  to  touch  the  sensibility  of  so  gifted  a 
being.  The  whole  evening  I  could  not  avoid  believing  I  had 
held  converse  with  a  spirit  of  my  own  imagination,  whom  for 
years  I  had  pictured  in  solitude  as  the  organ  of  Nature  herself, 
in  whose  immediate  impressions  I  would  place  more  confidence, 
and  bow  to  them  with  more  deference,  than  to  the  united' 
reasoning  of  the  rest  of  the  world. 


344 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


By  this  liberty  I  know  I  risk  all  prospect  of  any  future 
notice  from  you,  yet  I  rely  on  your  goodness  to  pardon  the 
indelicacy  as  well  as  rudeness  of  the  intrusion. 

I  am,  Madam, 
With  the  most  respectful  admiration, 
Your  faithful  servant, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

From  Mrs.  Siddoks. 

SlR,  27,  Upper  Baker  Street,  Kegent's  Park. 

In  answer  to  your  very  nattering  note  I  can  no  other- 
wise reply  than  in  the  words  of  Hamlet,  that  the  suffrage  of 
one  so  great  a  genius  "  o'erweighs  a  whole  theatre  of  others." 

Your  time  must  of  course  be  so  completely  devoted  to  your 
divine  art,  that  I  can  scarcely  hope  you  will  find  leisure  to 
gratify  me  by  calling  here  when  it  may  not  be  out  of  your  way 
to  do  me  that  favour ;  yet  I  doubt ;  I  will  not  despair,  and  I 
remain, 

With  the  utmost  admiration, 

Your  most  obliged  servant, 

S.  SlDDONS. 

From  John  Hunt. 

My  DEAR  HAYDON,  Upper  Cheddon,  near  Taunton,  April,  1820. 

Though  you  have  not  heard  from  me  of  late,  I  have 
neither  forgotten  you  nor  your  labours,  as  both  my  brother 
Robert  and  my  son  can  testify.  Your  success  has  delighted  me. 
If  1  d.d  not  from  the  bottom  of  my  soul  wish  you  well,  still 
I  should  be  gratiiied  at  finding  my  opinion  respecting  your 
talents  well  founded.  I  was  ever  convinced  that  you  had  "  the 
head  to  conceive  and  the  hand  to  execute  "  glorious  works  in 
your  beautiful  art,  and  you  have  now  in  open  day  proved  your- 
self a  worthy  follower  of  the  Raphaels  and  the  Rubenses. 
Honour,  and  profit,  and  health  attend  you ! 

Your  letter  gave  me  great  pleasure,  for  though  you  infinitely 
overrate  my  little  services,  yet  I  love  a  warm  heart,  and  mine 
has  been  pained  of  late  too  often  by  the  odious  selfishness  of 
move  t*han  one.    Your  head  of  my  brother  is  the  chief  orna- 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


315 


ment  of  my  humble  but  comfortable  cottage,  where  there  is  a 
bed  for  you,  and  a  cordial  welcome  at  all  times. 

Gro  on,  "  right  trusty  and  well  beloved,"  and  let  your  light 
"  so  shine  before  men  that  they  may  see  your  good  works,"  at 
once  an  honour  to  yourself,  your  friends,  and  your  country. 

Your  affectionate  friend, 

'John  Hunt. 

From  Southey. 

DEAR  SIR,  London,  28th  June,  1820. 

Among  the  things  which  I  have  left  undone  during  my 
restless  life  in  this  part  of  the  world,  there  is  no  one  which 
vexes  me  so  much  as  the  neglect  of  which  I  must  nt  eds  seem 
guilty  towaids  you.  But  when  you  hear  that  I  have  been 
residing  sometimes  at  Stieatham,  sometimes  at  Richmond,  that 
1  have  been  at  Cambridge,  at  Oxford,  at  Tunbridge,  and  that 
during  the  last  ten  weeks  I  have  never  slept  more  than  three 
nights  successively  in  the  same  bed,  you  may  be  more  disposed 
to  excuse  me. 

I  have  seen  your  great  picture,  one  of  the  very  few  things 
which  I  base  found  time  to  see,  and  of  those  few  it  was  the 
first.  I  missed  the  traditional  countenance.  On  every  other 
point  it  fully  equalled  my  high  expectations:  so  that,  I  am 
told  by  others,  that  repeated  visits  would  have  reconciled  me 
to  the  change. 

My  endeavour  on  behalf  of  Historic  Painting  is  likely  soon 
to  find  its  way  to  the  light.  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  it 
will  appear  in  the  next  number.* 

I  leave  this  abominable  city  to-night  in  the  mail  coach. 
Farewell,  Sir ;  forgive  me  for  delaying  what  1  always  intended 
to  do  till  it  was  too  late,  and  believe  me  to  be,  with  great  and 
true  respect, 

Yours  faithfully, 

ROBEKT  SOUTHET. 
Wednesday  afternoon. 

My  hand  shakes  so  with  heat  and  fatigue  of  packing  that  I 
fear  it  will  hardly  be  legible. 


*  *  Quarterly  Ecview '  (October  1820). 


3+6 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

DliAR  SlR,  Edinburgh,  1st  July,  1820. 

Your  letter  reached  me  when  I  was  in  the  Kingdom  (so- 
called)  of  Fife,  and  now  that  I  am  returned  from  that  foreign 
domain  I  hasten  to  return  you  thanks  for  the  honour  you  have 
done  me  in  giving  your  son  my  name.  I  am  only  afraid  I  shall 
be  able  very  indifferently  to  discharge  my  duties  as  godfather, 
as  I  have  slender  means  of  assist  ng  my  young  friends.  .  .  . 

My  daughter  Lockhart  and  her  family  are  just  leaving  for 
Abbotsford,  where  I  will  join  them  in  a  few  days,  which  must 
excuse  a  short  letter. 

I  am,  with  my  best  compliments  to  Mrs.  Haydon,  and 
kind  wishes  to  the  little  infant, 

Always  your  sincere  friend, 

Walter  Scott. 

From  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

DEAR  SlR,  27th  December,  1820. 

I  have  great  pleasure  in  pointing  out  whatever  may  be 
useful  or  agreeable  to  you.  A  complete  course  of  Scottish 
History  will  run  as  follows : — 

Dalrymj  Je's  (Lord  Hailes's)  '  Annals  of  Scotland,'  3  vols.,  8vo. 
This  is  a  book  drily  written,  but  drawn  from  good  sources,  and 
containing  many  passages  of  great  spirit.  It  brings  down  the 
history  of  Scotland  from  the  earliest  sources  that  can  be  relied 
on  to  the  accession  of  the  Stuarts. 

John  Pinkerton  has  written  the  History  of  Scotland  from  the 
point  where  Lord  Hailes  concludes  down  to  the  conclusion  of 
James  V. ;  a  work  of  meritorious  labou'-,  but  not  delivered  in  a 
very  pleasing  style  or  manner. 

Where  Pnkerton's  history  concludes  begins  the  classical 
history  of  the  late  Dr.  Robertson,  which  conducts  you  by  a 
very  pleasing  path  through  the  interesting  reign  of  Queen 
Mary,  and  down  to  the  union  of  the  Crowns  by  the  acceptance 
of  James  VI. 

Mr.  Laing  (?)  has  written  the  History  of  Scotland,  but  in 
rather  an  elaborate  manner,  from  the  union  of  the  Crowns  down 
to  that  of  the  Kingdoms  in  1707,  which  completes  the  Histo  y 
of  Scotland,  though  you  may  look  at  some  account  of  the 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


3<7 


rebellion  (so  called)  in  1715  and  1745.  There  is  a  prolix 
account  of  the  former  by  one  Rae,  and  of  the  last  by  John 
Horner  (?),  author  of  'Douglas.'  The  last,  though  much 
decried,  is  the  best  book  we  have  on  a  very  curious  subject. 

I  am  afi  aid  you  will  think  I  have  cut  you  out  quite  as  much 
labour  as  the  subject  is  worth,  but  if  you  wish  to  find  subjects 
for  the  pencil  I  believe  you  will  have  the  I  est  chance  of  finding 
them  in  some  of  the  old  historians  or  writers  of  memoirs,  who, 
without  being  either  so  full  or  so  accurate  as  the  philosophical 
historians  of  the  last  or  present  century,  had,  neveitheless,  the 
art  of  placing  their  actors  clearly  before  you.  An  old  writer, 
called  Lindsay  of  Pittscotti,  has  left  a  History  of  Scotland, 
which  is  written  in  a  very  rude  and  homely  style,  yet  is  often 
picturesque  in  the  highest  degree.  The  work  has  been  lately 
reprinted,  and  is  easily  come  by,  but  I  am  afraid  you  will  have 
much  difficulty  with  the  Scotch  phraseology  and  spelling. 

I  forgot  to  add  you  should  have  MacPherson's  Map  of  Scot- 
land with  the  index  at  your  hand.  There  is  no  reading  Scotch 
history  usefully  without  it,  and  by  a  very  simple  mode  of 
reference  it  points  out  the  situation  of  almost  every  place 
mentioned  in  that  course  of  study. 

I  cannot  omit  saying  that,  in  turning  your  thoughts  to 
Scottish  history,  it  will  give  me  an  uncommon  degree  of  plea- 
sure should  it  incline  your  pencil  towards  that  field  also,  and 
should  that  prove  the  case,  1  beg  you  will  command  any  assist- 
ance which  can  be  rendered  by  such  an  old  grubber  amongst 
not-known  antiquities  as  myself  respecting  incidents,  costume, 
or  the  like. 

I  am,  dear  Sir,  very  much  yours, 

Walter  Scott. 

I  am  at  present  at  Lord  Haddington's,  so  have  not  had  it  in 
my  power  to  be  quite  so  accurate  as  if  I  had  been  in  my  own 
room,  but  1  believe  I  am  correct  on  the  whole. 

From  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

DEAR  SlR,  Edinburgh,  7tk  January,  1821. 

I  just  scribble  a  few  lines  to  thank  you  for  your  letter, 
and  to  add  in  reply  that  at  any  time  you  may  command  any 
information  I  have  about  either  incident  or  costume,  should  you 


348 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


find  a  Scottish  subject  which  hits  your  fancy.  In  general  there 
is  a  great  error  in  dressing  ancient  Scottish  men  like  our  High- 
landers, who  wore  a  dress,  as  they  spoke  a  language,  as  foreign  to 
the  Lowland  Scottish  as  to  the  English.  I  remember  battling  this 
point  with  poor  Bird,  who  had  a  great  fancy  to  put  my  country- 
men, the  spearmen  of  Tiviotdale,  who  fought  and  fell  at  Chevy 
Chase,  into  plaids  and  fihibegs.  I  was  obliged  at  last  to  compound 
for  one  Highland  chief,  for  the  tartan  harmonised  so  much  with 
some  of  the  other  colours,  the  artist  would  not  part  with  him. 

Adieu,  my  dear  Sir ;  proceed  to  exert  your  talents  in  prosecu- 
tion and  in  representation  of  what  is  good  and  great,  and  so,  as 
Ophelia  says,  "  God  be  with  your  labour !"  I  am  very  happy  to 
have  seen  you,  and  hope  to  show  you  one  day  some  of  our  scenery. 

By  the  way,  there  is  a  tale  of  our  country  which,  were  the  sub- 
ject, well  known  as  it  is,  but  a  local  and  obscure  tradition,  strikes 
me  as  not  unfit  for  the  pencil,  and  I  will  tell  i,t  you  in  three  words. 

In  ancient  times  there  lived  on  the  Scottish  frontier,  just 
opposite  to  England,  a  champion  belonging  to  the  clan  of 
Armstrong  called  the  Laird's  Jock,  one  of  the  most  powerful 
men  of  his  time  in  stature  and  presence,  and  one  of  the  bravest 
and  most  approved  in  arms.  Be  wielded  a  tremendous^  large 
and  heavy  two-handed  sword,  which  no  one  on  the  west  border 
could  use  save  himself.  After  living  very  many  (years)  with- 
out a  rival,  Jock-of-the-Side  became  old  and  bedridden,  and 
could  no  longer  stir  from  home.  His  family  consisted  of  a 
son  and  daughter,  the  first  a  fine  young  warrior,  though  not 
equal  to  his  father  ;  and  the  last  a  beautiful  young  woman. 
About  this  time  an  English  champion  of  the  name  of  Foster, 
ancient  rivals  of  the  Armstrongs,  and  Englishman  to  boot, 
gave  a  challenge  to  any  man  on  the  Scottish  side  to  single 
combat.  These  challenges  were  frequent  among  the  Borderers, 
and  always  fought  with  great  fairness,  and  attended  with  great 
interest.  The  Laird's  Jock's  son  accepted  the  challenge,  and 
his  father  presented  him  on  the  occasion  with  the  large  two- 
handed  sword  which  he  himself  had  been  used  to  wield  in 
battle.  He  also  insisted  on  witnessing  the  combat,  and  was 
conveyed. in  a  litter  to  a  place  called  Turner's  Holm,  just  on 
the  frontier  of  both  kingdoms,  where  he  was  placed,  wrapped 
up  with  great  care,  under  the  charge  of  his  daughter.  The 
champions  met,  and  young  Armstrong  was  slain  ;  and  Foster, 
seizing  the  sword,  waved  it  in  token  of  triumph.    The  old 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


349 


champion  never  dropped  a  tear  for  his  son,  hut  when  he  saw 
his  renowned  weapon  in  the  hands  of  an  Englishman,  he  set  up 
a  hideous  cry,  which  is  said  to  have  heen  heard  at  an  incredible 
distance,  and  exclaiming,  "  My  sword  !  my  sword ! "  dropped 
into  his  daughter's  arms,  and  expired. 

I  think  that  the  despair  of  the  old  giant,  contrasted  with  the 
beautiful  female  in  all  her  sorrows,  and  with  the  accompani- 
ments of  the  field  of  combat,  are  no  bad  subject  for  a  sketch  a  la 
mode  of  Salvator,  though  perhaps  better  adapted  for  sculpture. 

Yours,  at  length, 

Walter  Scott. 

From  Southey. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Keswick,  11th  October,  1820. 

It  is  very  gratifying  to  me  to  know  that  you  are  satisfied 
with  my  good  endeavours ;  and  the  more  gratifying,  inasmuch 
as  the  paper,  having  been  delayed  nearly  two  years  in  the 
editor's  hands,  has  suffered  considerably  by  mutilation  on  its 
way  to  the  press.  I  had  quoted  much  more  largely  from  your 
pamphlet,  and  in  what  follows  the  extract,  not  only  sentences 
but  whole  paragraphs  have  been  cut  out. 

Mr.  Gifford  has  more  than  once  promised  me  that  he  would 
not  take  these  unwarrantable  liberties  with  my  p  ipers,  but  1 
believe  he  might  as  well  promise  to  abstain  from  food,  as  from 
the  exercise  of  his  editorial  authority  

The  press  has  great  power  for  immediate  evil,  much  less  for 
bringing  about  any  immediate  good.  But  truth  and  good 
principles  make  their  way  slowly,  they  are  to  make  it  at  last. 
And  I  have  no  doubt  that  whenever  the  government  finds  itself 
at  ease  concerning  the  revenues,  the  arts  will  feel  the  benefit. 
The  disposition  is  not  wanting. 

You  have  great  subjects  in  hand,  and  if  any  man  can  be 
equal  to  them  you  can.  I  wish  you  health  to  complete  them, 
and  many  more,  and  all  the  success  you  desire  and  deserve. 
But  whatever  your  immediate  reward  may  be,  your  great 
object  is  attained.  You  have  proved  the  excellency  of  British 
art,  and  secured  that  triumph  for  your  country. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Sir,  with  great  respect, 
Yours  very  truly, 

Robert  Southey. 


35° 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


To  Sir  George  Beaumont. 
My  dear  Sir  George,  2Gth  December,  1820. 

I  know  you  and  Lady  Beaumont  will  be  pleased  to  hear 
th  it  I  and  my  picture  ('  Jerusalem ')  were  received  in  Edin- 
burgh with  enthusiasm.  I  can  a-sure  you  I  shall  never  forget 
the  treatment  I  experienced  from  the  inhabitants  as  long  as  I 
exist. 

The  (Exhibition)  room  here  is  infinitely  better  lighted  than 
in  London,  and  the  picture  ('Entry  into  Jerusalem')  never 
looked  so  well.  Whatever  prejudices  you  may  naturally  attri- 
bute to  me  about  the  hea  1  of  Christ,  I  am  happy  to  tell  you 
the  leading  men  here  and  the  inhabitants  generally  feel  at 
least  my  intentions  better  than  they  were  felt  in  London.  I 
ta^e  this  to  be  owing  to  their  minds  here  being  present  in  a 
more  unadulterated  state.  Their  taste  has  not  been  corrupted, 
or  their  remembrance  preoccupied  by  the  common  receipt-heads 
of  Carlo  Dolci,  Carlo  Maratti,  and  all  the  host  of  mediocrity 
which  for  the  last  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  has  hovered  over 
and  fed  upon  the  works  of  Raphael  without  digesting  one 
atom  of  their  strength. 

Wilson  said  to  me  precisely  what  Mrs.  Siddons  said.*  Wilson, 
God  knows,  had  no  prejudices  in  my  favour.  He  had  been  for 
t'  ree  years  ridiculing  my  talents  in  'Blackwood,'  and  would 
willingly  have  denied  what  little  merit  the  picture  has;  but, 
like  a  fine  fellow,  he  acknowledged  his  sensations  with  a  candour 
1  shall  not  forget. 

1  never  spoke  to  Mrs.  Siddons  in  my  life  before,  and  is  not 
her  sensation  to  be  of  value  ?  What  benefit  could  she  derive 
from  praising  me?  I  assure  you  I  esteem  her  immediate 
impressions  on  matters  of  expression  to  be  of  more  value  than 
the  united  reasonings  of  the  rest  of  mankind,  and  posterity 

will  be  inclined  to  give  her  opinion  the  same  deference  

My  next  Christ,  I  am  convinced,  will  be  liked  better,  not 
because  it  will  be  different,  but  because  it  will  not  be  so 
new  

Believe  me, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

•  Mrs.  Siddons,  on  first  seeing  this  picture,  studied  the  head  of  Christ  most 
attentively  for  several  minutes,  the  gro.it  world  awniti  ig  her  verdict  in  silence. 
Then  she  turned  to  Sir  George  Beaumont  aud  said,  "  It  is  completely  successful." 
—Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


From  Sir  W.  Allan. 

My  DEAR  HaYDON,  Edinburgh,  3rd  January,  1821. 

I  intended  to  have  written  to  you  some  time  ago,  but  I 
have  been  much  occupied  in  packing  my  things  for  a  journey 
into  the  country,  where  I  intend  to  reside  for  some  time.  I 
find  it  will  be  impossible  for  me  to  get  my  picture  finished  in 
time  for  the  exhibiti  on  by  remaining  longer  in  Edinburgh, 
from  the  number  of  acquaintances  and  friends  that  daily  call  at 
my  lodgings,  the  greater  part  of  whom  are  generally  strangers, 
and  of  course  I  must  pay  them  some  attention.  By  that  means 
the  post  of  showing  the  lions  generally  falls  to  my  lot,  which 
is  the  very  "  diable  "  for  killing  time.  Kunning  about  from 
place  to  place,  one  day  climbing  up  Arthur's  Seat  and  Salisbury 
Crags,  another  day  strolling  from  the  Castle  and  Calton,  West 
B^w,  Cowgate,  Canongate,  &c. 

On  Christmas  day  1  dined  with  Sir  Walter  Scott  and  family, 
and  sp^nt  the  evening  most  delightfully.  Sir  Walter  was  in 
fine  spirits,  and  our  amusements  were  heightened  with  glorious 
mus  e  on  the  harp,  guitar,  and  Border  bagpipe,  also  many 
excellent  songs,  but  more  especially  the  Border  ballads,  which 
were  most  exquisitely  sung,  and  the  accompaniment  on  the 
bagpipe  gave  a  wildness  to  the  whole  that  it  is  difficult  to 
describe.  I  wish  very  much  that  you  had  been  there,  for  I 
am  persuaded  you  would  have  enjoyed  it  if  1  may  be  allowed 
to  judge  from  the  effect  the  Gaelic  lament  had  upon  you  when 
sung  by  Miss  C  at  Locldiart's. 

Mr.  Nicholson,  Wilson,  Williams,  and  all  your  friends  here 
beg  to  join  me  in  our  best  respects  to  you,  and  wish  you  many 
happy  returns  of  the  season. 

I  am,  my  dear  Havdon,  yours  truly, 
William  Allan. 

P.S. — Pray  remember  me  to  Wilkie  and  all  his  family,  and 
if  you  meet  Cal lender  tell  him  I  shall  be  in  London  about  the 
middle  of  March. 

On  a  Public  Funeral  for  Mrs.  Siddons. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  '  Times.' 
Sir,  1821. 

You  say,  "  What  is  the  art  of  a  stage  player  ?  A  con- 
tingent and  dependent  one."    May  I  ask  what  are  all  arts, 


35  2 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


viz.  poetry,  painting-,  and  music,  but  contingent  and  de- 
pendent ? 

If  opposite  characters  did  not  exist  in  nature  and  had  never 
existed,  if  their  collision  had<  not  produced  great  events,  and 
elicited  great  passions,  what  would  have  become  of  the  art  of 
poetry  and  painting? 

Nature  furnishes  the  historian,  the  historian  the  poet,  and 
the  painter,  and  the  poet  furnishes  the  actor,  but  is  the  actor 
tied  clown  to  the  mere  representation  by  action  and  expression 
of  what  the  poet  says  any  more  than  the  poet  or  the  painter 
to  the  mere  detail  of  what  really  happened  in  life?  Surely 
not.  And  it  is  here  that  begins  the  actor's  art:  here  he  shows 
his  susceptibility,  his  tact  for  character,  his  feeling  for  nature, 
in  fact,  the  portion  of  invention  which  belongs  to  him. 

For  instance,  Garrick  knew  a  man  who  had  gone  mad 
through  causing  the  death  of  his  only  boy  by  accidentally 
dropping  him  out  of  a  window  into  the  street,  and  Garrick 
had  seen  the  poor  lunatic  go  through  in  his  insanity  all  the 
pathetic  agonies  of  his  sufferings.  This  scene  Garrick  used  to 
act  in  private  till  tears  fell  from  the  eyes  of  his  friends.  Now 
here  life  furnished  him  with  a  certain  fact.  It  could  not  do 
more  to  a  poet,  but  the  degree  of  pathos  with  which  this  was 
represented  either  by  poetry,  painting,  or  acting,  would  prove 
the  genius  of  the  man  who  had  observed  it.  The  greatest  poet 
cm  be  said  to  do  scarcely  more  for  the  great  actor  than  the 
historian  does  for  the  poet,  viz.  furnish  him  with  characters  and 
hints.  The  poet  makes  each  man  think  consistently  with  his 
character  ;  the  painter,  look,  and  the  actor,  do,  as  he  would  look 
and  a>-t  in  expression  and  action.  For  example :  in  Macbeth — 

"  Macbeth.  .  .  .  Didst  thou  not  hear  a  noise  ? 
Lady  Macbeth.  I  heard  the  owl  scream,  and  the  crickets  cry. 
Did  not  you  speak  ? 

Macbeth.  When  ? 

Lady  Macbeth.  Now. 

Macbeth.  As  I  descended? 

Lady  Macbeth.  Ay. 

Macbeth.  Hark ! " 

In  reading  this  we  all  imagine  actions  and  expressions 
accompanying  such  thoughts.  We  all  imagine  what  the  great 
tictor  realizes  not  by  being  dependent  or  contingent,  but  by 
the  help  of  his  own  instinct  for  nature,  by  the  help  of  his  own 
imagination  satisfying  the  mind  of  the  spectator  through  his 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


253 


eye  by  giving  the  very  actions  such  as  would  accompany  two 
illustrious  murderers  who  had  just  slaughtered  an  innocent 
king,  and  who  met  on  the  staircase  after  the  deed  was  done. 

If  a  great  actor  has  not  murdered  a  king,  how  can  he  do 
this?  By  a  portion  of  the  same  power  by  which  Shakespeare 
did  it,  viz.  imagination,  original,  innate,  and  gifted  as  much 
as  poets  and  painters,  though  not  to  the  same  degree. 

I  therefore  take  the  liberty  of  saying  the  genius  of  the  great 
actor  is  not  trivial,  contingent,  and  dependent,  but  a  power,  a 
thing  by  itself  put  in  force  by  the  poet  or  by  nature,  and  is 
capable,  though  not  to  the  same  degree,  of  showing  invention 
and  originality. 

With  respect  to  Eousseau's  assertions  I  deny  their  truth. 
The  actor  was  of  the  greatest  use  to  the  Greeks  in  their 
barbarous  ages,  liousseau  admits  his  utility  at  a  period 
"  moderately  corrupt,  but  not  in  a  pure  state."  Surely  as  we 
are  moderately  corrupt  and  not  in  a  very  pure  condition,  it 
follows  the  great  actor  may  be  of  use  to  us. 

"  What  even  abstracts  the  mind  from  sensual  pleasure  must 
advance  the  dignity  of  our  nature,"  says  Sir  Joshua  Beynolds. 

Is  there  any  ai  t  on  earth  which  more  contribut  s  to  abstract 
the  mind  from  sensual  gratification  than  the  highest  efforts  of 
the  tragic  actor?  What  mind  was  not  always  benefited  by 
witnessing  the  Jail  of  Wolsey,  the  sufferings  of  Catherine,  the 
guilt  of  Lady  Macbeth,  and  all  the  high  efforts  of  Mrs. 
Siddons,  and  what  proof  of  degradation  would  it  be  in  any 
nation  to  mark  their  respect  for  such  a  great  genius  by  a 
funeral  public  and  solemn  ? 

In  my  opinion  it  would  be  a  proof  that  pants  et  circenses,  as 
well  as  consols  and  cash,  were  less  in  our  thoughts  than  usual. 

Is  not  the  art  of  the  great  portrait  painter  entirely  con- 
tingent and  dependent?  What  is  it?  To  catch  the  most 
pleasing  expression  in  his  sitter's  face,  to  remember  it,  to 
transfer  it.  If  he  did  not  see  it  he  could  not  reproduce  it,  and 
if  he  must  see  it  before  he  can  reproduce  it  there  is  an  end  of 
invention.  Yet  we  bury  our  great  portrait  painters  publicly 
and  in  St.  Paul's. 

But  a  great  actor  or  actress  who  realises  to  our  imagination 
by  action  and  expression  the  great  characters  of  history,  and 
poets  who  ini]  ress  upon  youth  and  age  the  dangers  of  ambition, 
the  consequences  of  unregulated  love,  the  horrors  of  gambling, 

VOL.  I.  2i  A 


354 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


the  guilt  of  murder,  and  the  injustice  of  despotism,  their  art 
is  contingent  and  trivial,  and  they  are  not  worthy  of  being  laid 
in  the  sanctuary  of  moral  poet^,  moral  painters,  and  ministers 
who  never  waged  war  with  the  liberties  of  mankind. 

I  am,  Sir,  your  obedient  servant, 

Alpha  (B.  R.  Haydon). 


From  Judge  Field. 

,r  „  Sydney,  New  Poutli  Wnles, 

My  de  \e  Haydon,  isth  November,  i82i. 

Your  letter  made  me  proud  indeed.  I  asked  only  for 
the  masques,  and  you  have  sent  me  an  autograph.  When  I 
quit  this  country,  I  shall  bequeath  the  manuscript  and  the 
masques  to  a  little  museum  we  have  lately  formed  here.  The 
letter  shall  accompany  one  I  have  received  from  Campbell,  the 
poet.  In  a  hundred  or  two  years  Australasia  may  be  curious 
to  know  who  these  great  poets  and  painters  were,  and  then  she 
shall  find  in  the  Sydney  Museum  an  original  old  letter  from 
the  painter  of  the  well-known  picture  '  The  Raising  of  Lazarus,' 
to  one  Field,  of  whom  nobody  knows  anything,  but  who  must 
have  had  the  delight  of  being  an  early  and  intimate  friend  of  the 

great  painter  Horace  Smith  tells  me  constantly  of  my 

old  friends,  and  Lamb  occasionally  delights  me  by  taking 
advantage  of  my  distance  to  send  me  all  sorts  of  lies  about 
you  all. 

Thank  you  for  your  critique  of  Byron's  tragedy.*  I  have 
since  read  it,  and  entirely  agree  with  you.  It  is  a  very  fine 
reading  drama,  but  it  has  not  character,  plot,  and  stage  science 
enough  to  act  well.  This  is  my  judgment ;  and  I  am  Lord 
Chancellor,  and  Lord  Chief  Justice  too  here. 

Do  me  the  honour  to  recall  my  name  to  Wordsworth  as  one 
of  his  most  ardent  admirers.  My  respects  also  to  Wilkie. 
Health  to  him  and  eyes  to  you,  my  dear  Haydon ;  for  well  do  I 
remember  what  you  suffered  during  the  long  gestation  of 
'  Solomon,'  and  the  longer  of  '  Christ's  Entry  into  Jerusalem.' 
My  wife  saw  these  two  chefs-d'oeuvre,  and  never  forgets  you. 
Farewell ! 

Ever  your  faithful  friend, 

B.  Field. 


Marino  Faliero. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


355 


From  Wagner. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Berlin,  10th  March,  1822. 

After  a  long  lapse  of  time  I  received  your  letter,  dated 
?rd  November,  and  six  copies  of  the  wood-cut  after  your  '  Den- 
tatus.'  I  come  to  present  to  you  my  best  thanks  for  the  copy 
you  had  the  goodness  to  favour  me  with. 

According  to  your  desire,  I  presented  one  copy  to  the 
Academy  at  Berlin,  and  you  will  have  received  the  thanks  of 
Minister  Altenstein  for  it.  The  third  copy  was  sent  to  Goethe, 
who,  I  presume,  has  written  to  you  since  about  it.  The  fourth 
to  the  President  Olenin,  at  St.  Petersburgh,  and  the  fifth  to  the 
Academy  at  Dresden,  where  it  was  received  with  grateful 
acknowledgments,  and  the  sixth  to  the  Director  of  the  Picture 
Gallery  at  Stuttgart,  who  expresses  likewise  his  thanks,  and,  as 
all  of  them  do,  their  admiration  unanimously  for  the  extra- 
ordinary skill  in  the  execution  of  this  wood-cut. 

I  believe  it  exhibits  all  that  this  branch  of  art  can  possibly 
produce,  and  that  it  has  done  more  than  what  wood-cutting  can 
afford  proportionately  with  its  means.* 

The  merited  success  which  your  pictures  have  met  with 
gave  me  infinite  satisfaction,  and  believe  me,  it  will  always  be 
with  the  same  feelings  I  shall  hear  of  its  continuation. 

Yours  very  truly, 

Wagner. 

From  C.  Lamb. 

DEAR  HayDON,  India  House,  9th  October,  1822. 

Poor  Godwin  has  been  turned  out  of  his  house  and 
business  in  Skinner  Street,  and  if  he  does  not  pay  two  years' 
arrears  of  rent,  he  will  have  the  whole  stock,  furniture,  &c,  of 
his  new  house  (in  the  Strand)  seized  when  term  begins.  We 
are  trying  to  raise  a  subscription  for  him.  My  object  in  writing 
this  is  simply  to  ask  you,  if  this  is  a  kind  of  case  which  would 
be  likely  to  interest  Mrs.  Coutts  in  his  behalf ;  and  who  in  your 
opinion  is  the  best  person  to  speak  with  her  on  his  behalf. 
Without  the  aid  of  from  3007.  to  400Z.  by  that  time,  early  in 
November,  he  must  be  ruined.    You  are  the  only  person  I  can 


The  wood-cut  was  executud  by  Harvey. — Ed. 

2  a  2 


356 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


think  of,  of  her  acquaintance,  and  can,  perhaps,  if  not  yourself, 
recommend  the  person  most  likely  to  influence  her.  Shelley 
had  engaged  to  clear  him  of  all  demands,  and  he  has  gone 
down  to  the  deep  insolvent. 

Yours  truly, 

C.  Lamb. 

Is  Sir  Walter  to  be  applied  to,  and  by  what  channel  ? 
From  C.  Lamb. 

DEAR  H.,  Tuesday,  29th. 

I  have  written  a  very  respectful  letter  to  Sir  W.  S. 
Godwin  did  not  write,  because  he  leaves  all  to  his  committee, 
as  I  will  explain  to  you.  If  this  rascally  weather  holds,  you 
will  see  but  one  of  us  on  that  day. 

Yours,  with  many  thanks, 

C.  Lamb. 

From  Sir  Walter  Scott. 
Dear  Sir,  (No  date). 

I  am  much  obliged  to  Mr.  Lamb  and  you  for  giving  me 
an  opportunity  of  contributing  my  mite  to  the  relief  of  Mr. 
Godwin,  whose  distresses  1  sincerely  commiserate.  I  enclose  a 
cheque  for  10Z.,  which  1  beg  Mr.  Lamb  will  have  the  kindness 
to  apply  as  he  judges  best  in  this  case.  I  should  not  wish  my 
name  to  be  made  public  as  a  subscriber  (supposing  publicity 
to  be  given  to  the  matter  at  all),  because  1  dissent  from  Mr. 
Godwin's  theory  of  politics  and  morality  as  sincerely  as  I 
admire  his  genius,  and  it  would  be  indelicate  to  attempt  to 
draw  such  a  distinction  in  the  mode  of  subscribing. 

I  was  much  amused  with  Mr.  Godwin's  conversation  upon 
his  return  from  Edinburgh,  some  years  ago,  when  he  passed  a 
day  at  this  place.  I  beg  my  respects  to  Mr.  Lamb,  whom  I 
should  be  happy  to  see  in  Scotland,  though  I  have  not  forgotten 
his  metropolitan  preference  of  houses  to  rocks,  and  citizens  to 
wild  rustics  and  highland  men. 

You  should  have  been  in  Edinburgh  to  see  the  King's  recep- 
tion, which  had  something  very  wild  and  chivalrous  in  it, 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


357 


resembling  more  what  we  read  in  Olivier  or  Froissart,  than 
anything  I  ever  saw. 

I  congratulate  you  on  the  progress  of  '  Lazarus.'  I  fear  it 
will  be  long  ere  I  have  the  pleasure  to  see  it,  but  I  have  no 
doubt  it  will  add  to  your  deserved  laurels. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Sir,  faithfully  yours, 

Walter  Scott. 

From  James  Elmes. 

DEAR  HAYDON,  8,  Regent  Street,  Pall  Mall,  17th  July,  1823. 

In  answer  to  your  letter  of  this  morning,  concerning  a 
charge  made  against  you  in  the  '  British  Press,'  of  its  being 
notorious  that  you  wrote  critiques  on  your  own  works  in  the 
Examiner  and  in  the  Annals  of  the  Fine  Arts,  although  I  think 
it  scarcely  worth  your  notice,  yet  as  you  seem  to  wish  my 
opinion  thereon,  I  have  no  hesitation  to  avow  that,  during .  the 
five  years  that  the  '  Annals  of  the  Fine  Arts'  were  published, 
of  which  I  was  sole  editor  and  part  proprietor,  no  criticisms  or 
praises  on  your  own  works,  or  on  those  of  others  that  were 
printed,  were  written  by  you,  or  even  seen  by  you,  till  in 
print. 

I  believe  I  was  your  first  encomiast  in  the  '  Monthly 
Magazine,'  on  your  picture  of  the  '  Repose  in  Egypt,'  when  I 
then  wrote  my  friend,  Prince  Hoare,  who  in  consequence  intro- 
duced me  to  you,  as  a  young  friend  then  studying  from  his 
cartoon  of  the  '  Murder  of  the  Innocents.'  Of  the  '  Examiner,' 
of  course,  I  know  nothing,  but  the  similarity  of  Mr.  Robert 
Hunt's  initials,  R.  H.,  to  yours,  B.  R.  H.,  may  have  led  some 
careless  readers  to  the  conclusion  you  complain  of ;  but  I  am 
certain  I  have  heard  Mr.  Robert  Hunt  declare  a  number  of 
times  that  you  never  wrote  criticisms  in  the  '  Examiner '  on 
your  own,  or  other  works,  except  such  as  had  your  name  at 
length,  or  your  initials  in  full. 

I  am,  dear  Haydon,  yours  faithfully, 

James  Elmes* 

*  This  and  the  succeeding  letter  exonerate  Haydon  from  the  charge  that  in 
the  '  Ait  Annals'  and  'Examiner'  newspapers  lie  was  in  the  habit  of  criticising 
the  works  of  living  aitists.  He  never  did  so  But  the  suspicion  arose  from  the 
similarity  of  the  initials  between  Robert  Hunt  and  his  own. — Ed. 


35* 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  John  Hunt. 

DEAR  HaYDON,  4,  Maida  Hill  West,  17lh  November,  1S23. 

You  ask  "  Am  T,  or  was  I  ever,  the  author  of  any  criti- 
cisms on  modern  works  of  art,  signed  R.  H.  in  the  '  Examiner'  ?" 
and,  "  Did  I  ever  in  my  life  criticise  a  modern  picture,  or 
influence  you  or  your  brother,  Mr.  Eobert  Hunt,  directly  or 
indirectly  to  give  favourable  or  unfavourable  opinions  of  any 
modern  picture  or  any  modern  artist  ?  " 

In  reply,  I  have  to  state  that  you  certainly  never  wrote  any 
articles  in  the  'Examiner'  under  thesignature  of  R.  H.  (which 
were  written  by  my  brother  Robert),  that  you  never  criticised 
any  modern  picture  or  artist  in  that  paper,  and  that  you  never 
to  my  knowledge,  directly  or  indirectly,  induced  any  writer  in 
the  ?  Examiner '  to  give  favourable  or  unfavourable  opinions 
respecting  works  of  art  or  their  authors. 

I  remain  yours  truly, 

John  Hunt. 

From  Amelia  Opie. 
Dear  Friend,  Colgate,  8/6/1824, 

I  am  not  able  to  call  on  thee  to-day,  but  if  thou  wilt 
breakfast  with  me  next  2nd  day  (Monday)  at  nine  o'clock  I 
will  accompany  thee  back  to  Bethell  Street. 

If  thou  canst  not  come  on  Monday  perhaps  Tuesday  would 
suit  thee,  and  I  will  see  thee  and  the  pictures  on  Monday.  En 
attendant, 

Thine  respectfully, 

Amelia  Opie. 

From  Mr.  Tat  rati. 

MY  DEAR  HAYDON,  Alpha  Road,  27th  January,  1825. 

So  far  as  the  cares  and  anxieties  of  a  large  domestic 
circle  have  given  me  time,  I  have  reflected  since  my  last  very 
interesting  interview  with  you  upon  the  discussion  (so  near  to 
my  heart)  .you  entered  upon,  to  enlighten,  counsel,  and  lead 
the  steps  of  a  boy  who  will,  I  am  sure,  ever  feel  it  his  honour 
and  credit  to  be  esteemed  by  you,  worthy  of  your  regard  in 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


350 


Far  be  from  me  adulation  and  flattery,  yet  if  you  keep 
memoranda  of  6uch  remarks  as  those  you  so  eloquently  made 
at  that  period  of  time,  I  am  very  confident  you  will  greatly 
contribute  by  their  exposition  to  the  benefit  of  art  and  the 
sound  establishment  of  the  principles  upon  which  alone  you 
could  have  produced  works  that  are  an  honour  to  the  age. 

May  you,  my  dear  friend,  long  find  the  "  mens  sana  et  in 
corpore  sano,"  and  at  length  reap  the  fruit  of  your  labours,  the 
esteem  of  all  true  lovers  of  real  art,  and  the  admiration  of 
youth  taught  by  you  in  a  school  where  principles  and  practice 
accord,  and  leave  at  last  to  posterity  a  name  and  a  fame  that 
time  can  never  erase. 

Ever  yours  most  sincerely, 

C.  H.  TaTham. 

From  Sir  John  Hobhouse. 
Sir,  19th  May,  1825. 

You  have  asked  me  whether  I  can  be  of  service  to  you. 
I  am  sorry  to  say  I  cannot.  I  have  neither  money,  nor  taste, 
nor  vanity  enough  to  be  a  collector  of  pictures  or  a  patron  of 
painters.  But  there  are  many  individuals  who  have  all  these 
requisites,  besides  being  very  worthy  and  benevolent  persons. 
To  such  men  I  should  recommend  you  to  apply.  I  do  not 
recollect  having  made  use  of  any  expression  in  the  conversa- 
tion which  I  had  with  you  which  could  lead  you  to  believe 
that  I  had  the  power  of  being  of  use  to  you.* 

I  have  the  honour  to  remain,  Sir, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

J.  C.  Hobhouss. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  'Times.' 

SlR,  November,  1825. 

Your  conduct  in  bringing  Mrs.  Belzoni's  misfortunes 
before  the  public,  is  an  honour  to  your  heart  and  to  your 
understanding. 

*  This  letter  is  an  instance  of  how  often,  like  all  recluses,  Haydon  made  too 
much  of  the  common  courtesies  of  Society,  and  mistook  lor  real  interest  the 
polite  flatteries  of  visitors  to  his  studio.  Hence  misundi  rstandi  ig,  loss  of  ac- 
quaintance, and  perhaps  ie„l  injury  of  prospects  and  position. — Ld. 


360 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


France,  in  her  estimation  of  men  of  science,  and  her  care  to 
provide  for  their  connections,  is  at  least  a  century  in  advance 
of  England. 

The  English  take  care  of  their  navy  and  army,  because 
if  they  did  not  nobody  would  fight  in  either  department. 
They  take  care  also  of  the  widows  of  their  officers,  but 
a  man  may  sacrifice  his  fortune  and  his  life  to  science, 
art,  and  antiquities,  may  be  the  means,  the  principal  means 
of  enriching  England  by  his  discoveries,  and  his  widow's 
only  resource  after  his  death  shall  be  the  pity  of  her  country- 
men !  Surely,  the  widow  of  a  man  of  science,  of  a  poet,  or 
of  a  painter,  ought  to  be  as  much  an  object  of  public  sym- 
pathy and  protection  as  the  widow  of  a  purser  of  a  seventy- 
four-gun  ship  !  Surely,  the  widow  of  Belzoni,  who  did  so 
much  by  his  energy  for  England's  public  collections,  ought 
to  be  provided  with  a  decent  competence  and  placed  above 
want. 

If  the  widow  of  such  a  man  be  unfit  for  the  provision  of  the 
Government,  the  public  will  not,  cannot  be  dead  to  so  just  a 
right. 

Let  those  only  who  have  read  Belzoni's  work,  have  been 
interested  by  his  perseverance  and  delighted  by  his  success,  let 
them  only  subscribe  and  an  independence  will  be  secured  for 
Belzoni's  widow. 

And  she  amply  deserves  it.  She  has  incurred  no  debts  for 
herself;  she  has  lived,  as  she  travelled,  with  the  merest 
necessities  about  them,  and  she  has  often  been  without  even 
them,  and  her  troubles  have  been  brought  upon  her  by  the 
debts  of  a  former  tenant,  of  which  she  had  no  previous 
knowledge. 

I  am,  Sir,  your  obedient  servant, 

A  Friend  of  Belzoni. 


From  George  Borrow. 

DEAR  SlR,  20>  Bryaustone  Street,  Portman  Square. 

I  should  feel  extremely  obliged  if  you  would  allow  me 
o  sit  to  you  as  soon  as  possible.  I  am  going  to  the  South  of 
France  in  little  better  than  a  fortnight,  and  I  would  sooner  lose 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


a  thousand  pounds  than  not  have  the  honour  of  appearing  in 
the  picture. 

Yours  sincerely, 

George  Borrow.* 


From  Sir  David  Wilkie. 

Rome,  4th  January,  1826. 

I  can  assure  you,  dear  Haydon,  there  is  not  a  friend  I 
have  whose  letter  could  have  gratified  me  more  than  yours 
did,  when  it  reached  me  from  Milan  on  my  arrival  in  this 
enduring  city— the  repository  of  the  great  master-works  of 
that  art  to  which  we  are  devoted.  The  objects  you  refer  to  I 
had  already  seen.  The  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  that  once  perfect 
work,  is  now  but  a  shadow  past  all  power  of  revival.  Its 
material  is  said  to  have  been  fresco  or  tempera,  but  oil,  I  think 
it  was,  beyond  all  doubt.  Like  other  pictures  of  that  date  in 
oil,  it  is  cracked  regularly,  the  small  spaces  flaked  off,  leaving 
the  dry  plaister  tinged  only  with  what  it  may  have  absorbed 
of  the  paint ;  the  head  of  Christ,  with  its  fine  expression,  and 
a  few  other  parts,  though  faded,  alone  retaining  their  surface. 
Leonardo  had  an  eye  for  softness  and  depth,  incompatible 
with  fresco,  and  if  our  copy  in  the  Royal  Academy  ever  was 
like  the  original,  and  copies  are  seldom  so  rich  as  that  they 
copy  from,  it  must  have  had  the  rich  juiciness  that  art  alone 
can  give.  The  cartoon  of  the  '  School  of  Athens '  I  saw,  but  was 
more  interested  with  those  Ottley  has. 

From  Milan  we  proceeded  to  Genoa,  thence  by  the  coast 
of  the  Mediterranean  to  Pisa.  Cimabue  and  Giotto  appear 
to  me  scarcely  better  than  the  Chinese  or  Hindoos,  in 
much  like  them,  in  many  parts  inferior,  and  in  air  and  expres- 
sion alone — religion  being  the  theme — far  above  them.  The 
*  Madonna '  of  the  former,  once  the  wonder  of  Florence,  would 
not  now  surprise  us  upon  a  box,  but  it  was  then  new  and  alone, 
and  addressing  itself  to  the  devotional  thoughts  of  man  gave, 
by  being  the  wonder  of  the  time,  the  greatest  stimulus  that 
could  be  given  to  himself  and  to  his  followers.  Thus,  as  the 
art  grew  and  improved  under  their  hands,  that  mind  and 

*  This  is  interesting  as  comin.Br  from  George  Borrow,  seeing  what  (illnatured) 
fun  he  tries  to  m;ike  out,  of  the  •  Historical  Fainter'  in  '  Lavengro.'  Possibly  his 
portrait  was  not  considered  successful. — Ed. 


3<>2 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


thought,  and  whatever  is  directed  to  the  common  apprehen- 
sions of  unlearned  man  is  never  wanting.  Far  otherwise  has  it 
been  since  art  attained  its  growth.  Too  proud  to  submit  to 
ordinary  judgment,  it  strove  to  please  the  learned,  the  con- 
noisseur, and,  what  is  as  bad,  the  artist.  Foreshortening, 
contrast,  intricate  light  and  shadow,  and  dexterity  of  hand,  has 
engrossed  everything,  and  they  seem  to  have  refined  till  they 
painted  themselves  out  of  society  altogether.  In  the  early 
people,  down  to  Fra  Bartolomeo  and  Pietro  Perugino,  expression 
of  the  story  is  uppermost,  and  with  the  mighty  men  that 
followed,  this  seems  to  have  given  them  all  their  prominence 
in  art. 

In  coming  by  Pisa,  one  reason  was  to  see  your  good  aunt, 
Mrs.  Partridge,  at  Leghorn.  I  determined  to  see  her,  and 
having  found  our  early  crony,  David  and  I  sallied  forth  with 
my  cousin  Lister,  on  a  fine  afternoon  to  the  Ardenza,  and  soon 
reached  the  villa,  and  a  beautiful  villa  it  is.  David's  sister  we 
saw  first,  and  she  reminded  me  of  your  sister  Harriet ;  she  and 
her  brother  both  seemed  to  regard  me  as  an  old  friend ; 
showed  me  all  over  the  house,  with  the  pictures,  the  fossils,  and 
other  curiosities  there  collected.  Your  aunt,  who  had  been  in 
Leghorn,  then  arrived.  She  was  most  kind,  inquired  particularly 
about  you,  said  she  had  long  expected  to  see  you,  and  that  she 
yet  hoped  you  would  come  to  Italy.  She  talked  with  interest 
about  her  family.  She  told  me  much  about  the  last  visit 
she  had  from  her  sister,  the  Countess  Mordwinoff,  from  Russia. 
She  had  remembered  her  only  in  her  youth  and  beauty,  and 
was  shocked  to  find  that  supplanted  by  age  and  decay, 
although  she  herself  must  be  nearly  seventy.  Yet  it  was  not 
until  the  Countess  smiled,  and  in  some  of  her  English  words  that 
she  could  trace  the  resemblance,  and  in  one  of  her  daughters 
only  could  she  discover  the  sister  of  her  own  youth.  Wo 
spent  a  very  merry  afternoon,  and  were  delighted  with  our 
visit,  and,  on  our  return  to  Leghorn,  started  next  day  for 
Florence ;  but  Pome  being  the  object  of  all  our  thoughts,  I 
must  there  conduct  you.  We  passed  by  the  desolate  road  oi 
Sienna.  The  Pinturicchios,  I  saw,  bearing  the  hand  of 
Raphael  distinctly;  these,  whether  helped  or  not,  are  in  the 
freshest  state  of  any  fresco  I  have  seen,  give  a  clear  idea  of 
fresco  when  new,  and  with  the  arabesques  that  surround  them 
make  this  sacristy  the  most  beautifully  ornamented  one  I  have 


B.  R.  II A  YD  ON, 


ever  witnessed.  By  Kadicofani  and  Viterbo,  through  a 
country  dreary,  wintry,  and  declining,  we  reached  at  last  the 
Imperial  City  in  the  expanded  Campagna,  like  the  great 
Tadmor  in  the  desert;  and  here,  after  putting  up  and  feeling 
disappointed  with  houses,  streets,  Tiber  and  everything,  we 
hastened  to  St.  Peter's,  whose  rich  and  expansive  interior 
realized  every  expectation.  Then  I  could  not  help  feeling 
gratefully  thankful  after  all  the  fatigues  and  troubles  I  had 
gone  through,  that  I  was  now  in  Rome,  and  that  one  of  the 
day-dreams  of  my  youth  had  been  accomplished. 

Philips  and  Hilton  had  arrived  by  Perugia  the  day  before 
me  ;  slight  things  upon  such  things  make  deep  impressions. 
They  told  me  they  had  been  in  the  Sistine  Chapel  I  They  avoided 
all  remark  till  we  should  see  it  together.  They  accordingly, 
with  Richard  Cook  and  myself,  went  next  day  in  a  body.  \  >  e 
passed  upstairs  and  through  the  Loggia  of  Raphael,  then 
through  to  the  first  Stanza— impression  unfavourable.  '  Battle 
of  Constant  ine '  looked  grey  and  chalky.  Proceeded  to  second : 
the  'Attila'  looked  warm,  light,  and  elegant,  but  the  'Bolsino,' 
when  we  hid  the  window,  looked  with  amazing  truth  and  rich- 
ness. By  this  time  the  dimness  of  fresco  had  worn  off,  and  this 
last,  with  the  '  Heliodorus,'  began  to  glow  upon  us  with  all  the 
tone  and  richness  of  oil.  Fresco,  however,  being  limited  in  its 
power  of  depth,  the  '  St.  Peter  in  Prison,'  fine  as  it  is  arranged, 
is  black  and  colourless,  and  in  material  for  want  of  what  oil 
alone  can  give,  a  failure. 

But  of  all,  the  '  School  of  Athens '  is  the  most  elegant.  Though 
suffering  much  from  change,  parts  of  it  are  most  highly  finished ; 
and  the  French,  who  object  to  the  later  pictures,  think  this  in 
the  purest  laste  of  any.  Raphael  himself,  however,  from  the 
*  Dispute  of  the  Sacrament,'  and  this  to  the  '  Incendio  del  Borgo.' 
the  last  in  the  order  of  paint  ng  them,  has  gradually  enla  ged 
his  figures  and  his  style  of  drawing  from  a  dry  and  hard,  to  a 
full  and  rounder  manner  of  painting.  They  looked  less  in  size 
than  I  expected,  and  also  worse  in  condition.  From  thence  by 
many  intricate  stairs  we  proceeded  to  the  Capella  Sistina,  aiid 
on  entering  I  looked  to  the  end,  but  not  seeing  the  '  Last 
Judgment,'  guessed  that  I  was  immediately  under  it,  and  in 
turning,  knew  that  I  should  see  upon  the  wall  and  ceiling  what 
Raphael  and  Reynolds  had  both  imitated  and  admired.  The 
effect  produced  by  shapes  was  rich  beyond  anything,  but  the 


3rn 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


hue  was  grey  and  slaty ;  and  this  wearing  off,  as  it  always  does 
in  fresco,  I  was  gratified  to  find  that  even  in  co'our  a  rich  and 
harmonious  arrangement  of  tints  was  observed  on  the  who!e. 
No  uncouth  vulgarity,  no  violent  contrasts,  no  unbroken  tints, 
but  refinements  such  as  you  see  in  Correggio  and  Titian,  and 
such  breadth  of  light  and  shadow,  that  the  [illegible]  of  the  first 
class,  is  yet  subordinate  to  the  living  principle  of  mind  and  in- 
telligence that  beams  pre-eminent  through  the  whole.  What 
we  hast  expected  was,  to  see  in  them  much  of  the  feeling,  and 
even  colour  of  Sir  Joshua,  impressing  us  with  the  undoubted 
sincerity  of  that  great  man's  (opinion).  Of  your  question  of 
whether  different  draperies  are  expressed,  we  have  duly  con- 
sidered. There  are  different-sized  folds,  and  as  much  difference 
of  stuffs  as  the  subjects  admit  of,  and  much  more  detail  than 
the  strict  modern  costumists  allow.  One  of  the  Sibyls  has 
stays  laced,  and  a  gown  with  hemmings.  Other  dresses  have 
fringes,  and  Goliath's  shoulder  is  trimmed  with  binding  like 
the  work  of  the  tailor.  I  think  Sir  Joshua  carried  his  imita- 
tion farther  than  the  works,  either  of  Kaphael  or  M.  Angelo 
will  bear  him  out;  but  the  French,  far  stricter,  condemn  both 
as  w  11  as  the  harm  d  Poussin,  as  ignorant  pretenders  in  statis- 
tics, as  well  as  in  form  and  taste.  .But  this  would  be  an  endless 
subject  to  discuss. 

l'resco  has  excited  my  attention  much,  it  decays  sooner 
than  oil,  and  is  incapable  of  being  repaired  and  refreshed 
like  oil.  To  the  common  eye,  too,  when  old,  it  is  not  so  in- 
viting. The  points  are  admired  by  those  who  cannot  compre- 
hend the  frescoes  of  Eaphael :  but,  after  all,  fresco,  when  new, 
as  I  have  seen  them,  is  gay,  and  lnminous,  and  ornamental, 
and  from  the  space  it  allows,  capable  of  combinations  that  oil 
can  never  pretend  to.  Query,  might  it  not  be  revived  in  Eng- 
land? Blight  not  the  halls  at  Windsor,  and  the  House  of 
Lords,  be  so  painted,  as  Hampton  Court  and  the  Museum, 
though  in  oil,  were  her,  tofore  ?  I  wonder  no  English  artist 
here  has  ever  thought  of  learning  fresco.  I  applaud  the 
G  ermans  for  the  attempt,  Gothic  as  it  is,  and  I  think  I  know  the 
chief  of  the  sect  worthy  to  be  so  employed  in  his  own  country 
and  gone  to  gain  honour. 

Now,  dear  Haydon,  let  me  conclude  with  what  I  feel  you  are 
most  anxious  I  should  say  something  about,  viz.,  the  ex]  ediency 
of  your  own  visit  to  Borne  I    This  question  must  be  uppermost 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


365 


and  of  deep  interest  to  you.  Prudence  in  the  first  place  is  to 
be  considered.  Your  family,  as  well  as  yourself,  is  to  be 
looked  to,  and  let  me  be  the  last  to  advise  you  against  pru- 
dence ;  but  if  the  ways  and  means  and  the  time  is  to  be  found, 
Eome  and  Italy  is  of  all  places  that  you  should  see.  No  style 
of  art  can  be  so  high  or  so  low  that  has  mind  or  sentiment  for 
its  object,  as  not  to  be  forgotten  by  the  contemplation  of  the 
works  of  that  school,  where  mind  has  been  most  pre-eminent. 
Two  ways  are  open,  to  come  with  your  family  for  years,  or  to 
take  a  run  as  Hilton  has  done.  I  shall  not  say  which  is  most 
suitable,  but  either  is  better  than  not  coming  at  all,  or  defying 
it  till  too  late.  Give  my  best  regards  to  Mrs.  Haydon,  to 
whom  with  yourself  I  put  this  for  your  mature  consideration. 

Ever  yours  most  truly, 

David  Wilkie. 

From  Mr.  Fitzgerald,  Solicitor. 

DEAR  SlR,  2,  Lawrence  Pounteney  Hill,  1st  January,  1826. 

You  oveirate  the  trifling  share  of  civility  which  you 
have  experienced  here,  and  be  assured  it  gave  me  much 
pleasure  to  find  that  it  afforded  you  any  accommodation. 
Hail  you  only  that  portion  of  what  the  world  calls  wealth,  to 
which  your  genius  and  talents  so  richly  entitle  you,  you  would 
have  no  occasion  to  ask  for  favours ;  but  it  seems  to  be  the 
common  lot  of  those  upon  whom  Nature  has  been  lavish  with 
her  best  gifts  and  treasures,  not  to  be  overloaded  with  treasures 
of  another  sort ;  and  no  wonder  it  should  be  so,  since  they  are 
of  a  different  order  of  men,  and  can  scarcely  be  considered  as 
any  part  of  the  common  race.  They  are,  as  it  were,  ordained 
to  diffuse  delight  and  instruction  to  all  about  them,  while  they 
are  perfectly  indifferent  about  themselves,  and  seek  only  im- 
mortality in  their  works.  It  is  no  small  pleasure  that  it 
should  fall  to  the  lot  of  one  of  us  to  be  kind  to  one  of  those 
extraordinary  mortals. 

Believe  me,  yours  respectfully, 

A.  Fitzgerald.* 

*  In  his  Journal  for  tliis  day,  Haydon  heads  this  letler,  "A  lawyer's  letter 
worth  preserving. '  He  met  with  few  .-uch  lawyers  in  his  can  er,  but  "they  exist, 
neveithelets,  as  this  letkr  proves.    Lawyers  uie  possibly  not  to  bail  as  t^ey  are 


366 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


Samuel  Habt  to  his  good  f  riend  B.  E.  Haydojt. 

My  DEAR  SIR,  London,  13th  April,  1S26. 

It  has  been  a  matter  of  surprise,  and  to  some  of  exul- 
tation, that  Moses,  throughout  the  whole  Code  of  his  Laws, 
has  never  in  one  instance  noticed  the  rewards  and  punish- 
ments that  are  to  follow  hereafter ;  neither,  say  they,  has  he 
at  all  hinted  at  them,  nor  given  any  passage  in  the  Old 
Testament  from  which  any  inference  can  be  drawn  of  a  future 
state.  I  am  happy  to  say  I  can  contradict  it,  and  will  prove 
in-ontrovertibly  that  one  of  the  first  grand  ordinances  in  that 
sacred  book  relates  to  a  future  existence,  and  that  the  soul  of 
man  is  to  be  hereafter  made  accountable  for  its  actions  in  this 
world.    Let  us  refer  to  Gen.  ix.  5.  Thus— 

"  And  surely  your  blood  of  your  lives  will  I  require,  at  the 
hand  of  every  b'ast  will  I  require  it,  and  at  the  hand  of  man  : 
at  the  hand  of  every  man's  brother  will  I  require  the  life  of 
man." 

In  reading  this  verse  in  the  Bible,  it  will  appear  most 
clearly  that  the  Almighty  intended  to  guard  mankind  against 
the  horrid  crime  of  self-destruction  in  the  first  instance ;  but, 
then,  it  will  very  naturally  be  asked  what  is  meant  by  that 
part  of  the  verse,  "  at  the  hand  of  every  beast  will  I  require  it  ?" 
Surely  they  cannot  be  cautioned  against  destroying  each  other. 
There  must  then  be  something  wrong  here,  and  so  there  is. 
The  mistranslation  of  a  word  causes  it  to  read,  what  I  had 
almost  been  prompted  to  say,  nonsense.  The  original  Hebrew 
has  the  word  (chaya).  Now  it  is  obvious  to  every  scholar 
who  is  conversant  with  the  Hebrew  language,  that  this  word  is 
taken  in  a  twofold  sense,  it  either  signifies  a  beast,  or  it  can  be 
construed  "  the  soul  of  man  ;"  with  this  difference,  that  when  it 
is  to  be  underst  od  as  meaning  the  former,  we  shall  invariably 
find  it  accompanied  by  a  description  of  what  nature  the  beast 
is,  as  "  the  beasts  of  the  earth,"  "  beasts  of  the  field,'  "  beasts  of 
the  wood  or  wilderness,"  an  "  evil  "  or  "  wicked  least."  But 
whenever  it  is  intended  to  be  understood  as  "  the  soul  of  man," 
it  i-  unattended  by  any  other  substantive  or  an  adjective,  but 
6im[)ly  the  word  "  chaya." 

painted.  T  remember  a  famous  old  lawyer  in  the  Midland  Counties,  on  being 
upbraided  by  an  an^ry  rector  for  daring  to  put  him  into  the  County  Court, 
"Lawyers  are  all  rogues,  Sir."  "May  be;  may  be;  but  there  be  middling 
pars-ma  too,  Sir."— Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


367 


Now  in  this  verse  the  word  a;  pears  unattended  by  any  de- 
B  r'ptive  auxiliary,  consequently  it  cannot  read  "beast,"  but 
must  unquestionably  mean  the  "  soul,"  and  the  verse  should 
read  thus — 

"  And  surely  your  blood  of  your  lives  will  I  require  :  at  the 
hand  of  every  soul  will  I  require  it ;  and  at  the  hand  of  man, 
at  the  hand  of  every  man's  brother  will  I  require  the  life  of 
man." 

Can  anything  in  the  world  be  more  plain  than  this  reading 
of  the  text,  by  which  it  appears  most  distinctly  that  the  divine 
legislator,  Moses,  predicted  very  early  in  the  relation  of  his 
code  of  laws,  the  reward  and  punishment  that  was  to  follow 
hereafter  ? 

Isaiah  vii.  verse  14.  "  Behold,  a  virgin  shall  conceive,  and 
bear  a  son,"  &c. 

To  every  correct  reader  of  the  Hebrew  language  it  must 
appear  most  clearly,  that  in  this  verse  the  translation  of  a 
particular  word  has  been  purposely  corrupted  to  answer  some 
particular  end.  In  the  original  Hebrew  it  reads  thus :  H3n 
rnn  no^yn  «  Behold  a  young  woman  has  conceived."  "  Nglmo  " 
signifies  a  "young  woman"  (a  noun  substantive,  feminine 
gender).  The  masculine  is  °>V.  (ngelem),  a  "  youth."  The 
same  word  is  made  use  of  by  Saul  when  h.3  saw  David  ap- 
proach with  the  head  of  Goliath,  and  runs  thus  in  the  Bible : 
D.H'^  npP"t?  "  whose  son  is  this  youth  ? "  Now,  to  denote  a 
fema'e  who  had  not  yet  known  man,  and  who  was  a  virgin, 
would  have  been  designated  by  the  word  pfana  (b'thula,  a  pure 
virgin),  a  noun  sub-tantive,  feminine  gender.  Mark  well, 
there  is  no  masculine  gender  to  this  noun  substantive.  The 
reason  is  very  obvious  and  requires  no  further  explanation. 

"Shall  conceive,"  is  not  so  in  the  original  Hebrew.  The 
word  in  the  original  is  nnrj  (harah),  a  verb  in  the  third  person 
singular,  feminine  gender,  of  the  first  conjugation,*  present 
tense,  and  signifies  she  "  has  born,"  or  "  doth  bear  ;  "  whereas, 
if  it  were  intended  to  be  construed  "  she  shall  or  will  conceive," 
it  would  have  been  written  "i™  (tahar),  i.e.,  the  future  tense 
third  person  singular,  feminine  gender,  first  conjugation.  The 
translation  of  the  verse  in  question  should  be,  "  Behold  a 
young  woman  has  conceived,"  or  "  is  conceived  of  a  son,"  and 

*  The  Hebrew  has  seven  conjugations. — En, 


368 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


the  miracle  relates  to  her  actually  having  conceived  a  son  and 
not  a  daughter,  is  a  prophecy  relating  undoubtedly  to  the  local 
situation  of  the  Jews  at  that  time  (as  appears  by  the  context), 
with  Rezina,  and  Pekah  the  son  of  Eemaliah,  and  to  no  other 
circumstance.  That  poetic  and  most  elegant  writer,  Isaiah, 
would  have  been  more  explicit  in  his  prophecy  had  he  intended 
it  to  relate  to  any  event  at  a  greater  distance  of  time. 

Yours  truly, 

S.  Hart. 

From  Samuel  Hart. 

My  DEAR.  SIR,  16th  August,  1826. 

I  thought  I  was  not  mistaken  this  morning  when  I 
positively  told  you  that  there  was  a  prophecy  against  Damascus; 
therefore  be  so  good  as  refer  to  the  17th  chapter  of  Isaiah,  and 
you  will  immediately  see  my  opinion  confirmed.  Excuse  me 
putting  you  to  the  expense  of  postage,  but  I  know  you  think 
nothing  of  it  when  it  tends  to  literary  research. 

Truly  yours, 

S.  Hart. 

From  Samuel  Hart. 

Wednesday,  noon. 

I  quoted  the  Hebrew  to  you  this  morning,  as  it  seemed 
to  have  made  an  impression  on  my  mind,  and  find  it  on  refer- 
ence correct. 

"  Maso  Damesheck,"  id  est — the  burden  of  Damascus. 
From  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

DEAR  SIR,    '  Edinburgh,  23rd  February,  1826. 

I  have  received  your  kind  letter,  and  have  little  to  say 
in  answer  but  what  is  reasonably  indifferent  to  myself  and  will 
be  agreeable  to  you.  I  have  lost  a  large  fortune,  but  I  have 
ample  competence  remaining  behind,  and  so  I  am  just  like  an 
oak  that  loses  its  leaves  and  keeps  its  branches.  If  I  had  ever 
been  a  great  admirer  of  money,.  1  might  have  been  at  this 
moment  very  rich,  for  I  should  have  had  all  I  have  lost,  and 
much  more.    But  I  knew  no  mode  of  clipping  the  wings  of 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


3^9 


fortune,  so  I  might  also  have  lost  what  I  have  set  my  heart 
upon,  and  I  should  then  have  been  like  a  man  who  had  lost  his 
whole  clothes,  whereas  at  present  I  only  feel  like  one  who  has 
forgot  his  greatcoat.  I  am  secure  at  (all  events  ?)  of  the  perils 
which  make  bad  fortune  really  painful,  for  my  family  are  pro- 
vided for,  and  so  is  my  own  and  my  wife's  comforts  for  the 
time  we  may  live.  Others  will  regret  my  losses  more  than 
I  do. 

It  would  be  gross  affectation  to  say  I  am  glad  of  such  a  loss, 
but  many  things  make  it  more  indifferent  to  me  thin  I  believe 
it  would  be  to  most  people.  I  will  feel  delighted  by  receiving 
your  mark  of  kindness.  I  can  only  hope  it  has  not  taken  up 
too  much  of  your  valuable  time. 

Believe  me,  dear  Sir,  yours  ever, 

Walter  Scott. 

P.S. — I  hope  things  go  on  well  with  you,  as  your  genius 
deserves.  There  is  one  comfort  in  the  Fine  Arts,  that  the 
actual  profit  may  be  lost,  but  the  pleasure  of  pursuing  them 
defies  fortune. 

From  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

DEAR  SlR,  Edinburgh,  28th  June,  1F26. 

I  should  long  since  have  thanked  you  for  your  valuable 
and  most  acceptable  picture,  which  was  at  once  a  kind  and 
flattering  token  of  your  recollection,  and  which  is  most  inter- 
esting to  me  on  that  account,  as  well  as  a  token  of  your 
regard.  But  misfortune  seldom  comes  unattended,  and  latterly 
it  assumed  its  most  cruel  shape,  by  depriving  me  of  my  com- 
panion through  nearly  thirty  years  weal  and  woe,  making  a 
blank  which  time  cannot  fill  up,  though  doubtless  it  will  blunt 
the  acute  sense  of  sorrow  with  which  it  is  now  attended. 

You  were  kind  enough  to  allude  in  a  former  letter  to  my 
pecuniary  losses,  which,  though  heavy  in  amount,  will  be 
attended,  if  God  grant  me  health,  with  no  ultimate  incon- 
venience worthy  a  man  thinking  about.  Indeed,  at  the  very 
worst,  I  have  a  very  ample  life  income  of  my  own,  and  my 
family  are  provided  for,  as  they  succeed  to  a  considerable 
fortune  independent  of  me. 

Walteu  Scott. 
Vol.  1.  2  b 


3/o 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  Sir  Walter  Scott. 


My  dear  Sir, 


25,  Pall  Mall,  15tli  November,  1826. 


A  battle,  said  a  person  fully  well  acquainted  with  the 
subject,  in  fact,  the  "  Hero  of  Waterloo"  himself — is  "  very  like 
a  ball."  Everybody  knows  the  partner  he  himself  danced  with, 
but  know  .5  little  about  the  other  couples,  so  the  more  extensive 
the  inquiries  that  are  made,  the  more  accurate  information 
will  be  obtained.  If  you  even  jot  down  a  few  lines  of  such 
anecdotes,  addressed  to  me  at  Edinburgh  (under  cover  if  bulky, 
to  Mr.  Croker,  Admiralty),  I  will  receive  them  safe.  I  should 
be  glad  to  receive  such  a  mark  of  your  kindness.  Particularly 
1  should  be  desirous  to  know  Shaw's  fate.  I  am  in  possession 
of  his  skull,  poor  fellow.* 

I  venture  to  offer  my  respects  to  Lord  Egremont,  whom  I 
had  the  honour  of  meeting  some  years  ago. 


Permit  me  to  congratulate  you  on  having  given  young 
Lough  f  a  commission. 

His  figure  of  Milo'  is  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  proofs 
of  the  vigour  of  innate  power  perhaps  ever  given.  It  contains 
evidence  of  acuteness  quite  extraordinary,  oppressed  as  he  must 
have  been  by  great  obstructions. 

I  conscientiously  believe  that  with  proper  encouragement, 
if  he  be  not  spoiled  by  early  praise,  he  will  be  one  of  the 
greatest  sculptors  since  the  best  ages  of  Greece — with  no 

*  Shaw  was  a  Life  Guardsman,  killel  at  Waterloo.  He  was  a  remarkably 
well-made  man,  and  an  old  model  of  my  father's.  The  first  French  cuirassier 
who  attacked  him,  Shaw  parried  his  blow,  and  before  the  Frenchman  could 
recover  himself,  Shaw  cut  him  right  through  his  brass  helmet  to  the  chin,  and 
"  his  face  fell  off  like  a  bit  of  apple."  Shaw  afterwards  captured  an  eagle,  but 
L>st  it,  and  getting  too  far  away  from  his  troop  was  surrounded  by  lancers  and 
speared. — Ed. 

t  Lough,  the  sculptor,  came  out  in  public  this  year.  Amidst  all  his  own 
haiassing  distresses,  Haydon,  who  was  never  insensible  to  the  wants  or  ta'ents 
of  young  artists,  exerted  himself  with  all  his  energy  to  make  Lough's  Exhibition 
tuect  s-t'ul,  and  to  obtain  from  his  own  friends  prompt  recogn'tion  of  the  young 
sculptor's  great  talents. — Ed. 


I  am  truly  yours, 

Walter  Scott. 


To  Mr.  Brougham. 


Dsar  Sir, 


London,  20  th  May,  1827. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


exception  —  not  even  Michel  Angelo,  Bernini,  or  Canova. 
There  is  such  distinct  proof  of  his  endeavouring,  to  the  best  of 
his  knowledge,  to  combine  the  style  of  the  antique  with  the 
beauties  and  truth  of  individual  nature. 

Faithfully  yours, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

Extract  from  a  Letter  of  the  Duke  of  Bedford. 

1st  August,  1827. 

I  am  extremely  happy  to  hear  that  you  are  again  restored 
to  your  professional  pursuits  and  your  family,  and  (if)  I  have 
been  in  the  slightest  degree  instrumental  in  this  desirable 

event,  it  will  afford  me  great   satisfaction  If  your 

trustees  should  devise  no  more  advantageous  mode  of  disposing 
of  this  picture  (Eucles)  when  finished,  you  may  consider  it  a 
commission  given  by  me  for  its  completion,  as  I  feel  confident 
that  it  will  be  a  very  valuable  work,  and  that  the  best  energies 
of  your  mind  will  be  called  forth  to  render  it  so. 

The  extraordinary  scene  *  you  describe  to  me  must  have 
been  a  fine  subject  for  a  Hogarthian  pencil.  You  may  rely  on 
my  not  mentioning  your  intention  to  paint  it  to  any  one. 

Yours  ever, 

Bsdford. 

From  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  AbboLford,  Melrose,  2nd  August,  1827. 

Most  deep'y  do  I  regret  the  circumstances  which  render 
this  trifling  remittance,  which  I  now  send,  of  the  least  conse- 
quence to  you,  and  am  doubly  sorry  as  my  present  means  do 
not  permit,  as  I  would  have  desired,  to  enlarge  it.  But  in  a 
few  weeks  I  will  be  in  cash  again,  and  shall  have  a  little  at 
your  command,  and  should  the  present  unpleasant  circumstance 
continue,  I  will  be  happy  to  do  something  to  relieve  them. 

It  is  indeed  very  hard  that  with  talents  which  should  enrich 
you,  you  should  be  subject  to  so  much  distress.  I  trust,  how- 
ever, to  hear  that  you  are  liberated  soon  from  your  present 

*  The  'Mock  Election,'  sub  equently  purchased  by  the  King,  George  IV.,  and 
now  in  the  Royal  Collection—  Ed. 

2  b  2 


372 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


unhappy  situation,  since  it  seems  as  unfavourable  for  the 
interest  of  your  creditors  as  for  your  own  comfort,  that  you 
should  remain  in  a  situation  where  it  must  be  impossible  for 
you  to  exeit  your  own  powers,  either  for  their  benefit  or  your 
own. 

I  am  with  regard,  yours  faithfully, 

Walter  Scott. 

From  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

MY  DEAR  SlR,  4tl>  August. 

I  will  speak  to  Lockhart,  for  I  expect  him  daily,  about 
what  can  be  done  for  the  subscription.  My  countrymen  are 
not  slow  in  rendering  personal  honours  and  per.-onal  attenti  n 
to  the  men  of  genius  who  visit  them,  for  they  have  some  taste, 
and  plenty  of  beef  and  mutton.  But  cash  being  scarce  with 
them,  I  never  have  great  hopes  when  that  is  the  article  wanted. 
My  own  situation,  still  greatly  embarrassed,  though  the  weather 
is  clearing  to  leeward,*  will  make  it  improper  for  me  to  give 
more  as  a  subscriber  than  a  small  sum,  for  there  may  be  people 
capible  of  saying  I  should  pay  all  my  own  debts  before  I 
assist  others. 

I  am  in  haste,  but  very  truly,  yours, 

Walter  Scott. 


Extract  from  a  Leiter  o/Mr.  Joseph  St  rut  t,  enclosing  100Z. 

Derby,  20th  July,  1827. 

I  do  not  indeed  wonder  at  your  anxiety,  and  I  feel  for 
you.  Look  forward,  however,  with  hope — all  may  yet  be  well. 
Keep  your  noble  mind  composed !  You  may  yet  have  plenty 
of  employment ;  be  industrious,  be  economical — you  will  yet 
be  independent.  Trust  and  hope !  I  like  the  plan  proposed. 
Let  me  kn<  w  what  is  done.  I  may  yet  be  of  use  to  you,  for  I 
am  well  disposed  to  be  your  friend. 

Joseph  Strutt. 

*  This  may  seem  of  no  consequence,  as  what  is  to  leeward  must  be  blown  over, 
but  Scott  was  right,  for  it  may  work  back,  aud  hence  the  old  sea  saying,  "Always 
Lok  to  leeward  lor  your  wealker."— Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


373 


From  Serjeant  Talfoued 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Gloucester,  5th  September,  1827 

I  thank  you  heartily  for  your  letter  which  was  duly 
forwarded  to  me,  and  which  gave  me  great  pleasure.  The 
subscription  list,  which  I  saw  in  the  'Morning  Chronicle,'  fell 
so  far  short  of  my  hopes  that  I  feared  you  would  be  dis- 
heartened,* and  I  am  most  happy  to  find  that  I  was  mistaken. 
As  to  any  feeling  of  "  painful  obligation  "  towards  individuals  or 
the  public,  if  a  hundred  times  as  much  were  done,  it  would  be 
entirely  misplaced.  Your  cause  is  a  general  and  an  immortal 
cause,  and  those  who  sustain  it  only  do  honour  to  themselves, 
and  their  duty  to  those  who  are  to  come  after  them.  It  seems 
to  me  surprising  that  men  who  have  themselves  sufficient  for 
the  wants  and  desires  of  those  who  depend  on  them,  and  who 
have  no  chance  of  being  remembered  when  they  are  gone, 
should  not  eagerly  embrace  the  opportunity  of  ennobling 
themselves  by  the  delightful  consciousness  that  by  assisting  in 
the  restoration  of  a  great  artist  to  serenity  and  comfort,  and 
setting  at  liberty  faculties  which  must  be  lost  under  the 
pressure  of  external  needs,  they  obtain  some  portion  in  works 
which  will  shed  their  sweetness  on  distant  ages.  Some  such 
thought  1  yet  hope  may  animate  minds  whose  selfishness  is  not 
of  the  grossest  order  to  raise  the  small  sum  which  is  essential 
to  your  entire  freedom  from  care,  and  when  this  is  done  how 
largely  will  every  subscriber  remain  your  debtor! 

I  have  before  my  return  to  attend  to  a  writ  of  inquiry  in 
Berkshire,  and  therefore  I  shall  not  be  in  town  till  towards  the 
end  of  next  week.  When  I  arrive  I  will  call  on  you,  and  as 
soon  as  your  leisure  serves,  will  sit  to  you  for  my  portrait. 
A  profitable  Circuit  has  put  it  quite  within  my  convenience 
to  give  you  at  once  the  whole  price,  which  I  ment'on  without 
reserve,  as  it  may  be  convenient  to  you  to  know  that  you  may 
rely  on  having  that  sum  at  the  end  of  next  week.  In  spite  of 
your  endeavours  1  must  insist  on  keeping  my  subscription 
entirely  distinct  from  this  mere  matter  of  business,  for  I  would 

*  A  subscription  of  five  hundred  guineas  was  opened  by  Lord  Francis  Leveson 
Gowr-r,  Mr.  I., .ok hart,  and  Mr.  Burn,  lor  the  purchase  of  the  picture  of  ■  Eucles,' 
which  was  ultimately  raffled  for  and  won  by  Newman  Smith,  Esq.,  of  Dulwich. 
It  is  now  iii  the  possi  Bsion  of  Mrs.  Newman  Smith,  of  Great  Cumberland  Piaco 
Hyde  Park.— Ed. 


374 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


not  for  the  world  commit  such  a  fraud  on  my  own  little  interest 
in  your  future  as  allowing  this  to  enter  into  any  other  dealings 
between  us. 

I  trust  when  I  arrive  T  shall  find  Mrs.  Haydon  safe  and 
doing  well.    Pray  give  my  best  compliments  to  her,  and 

Believe  me  ever  faithfully  yours, 

T.  N.  Talfourd. 

From  C.  H.  Townshend. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Seven-Oaks,  25th  October,  1827. 

I  cannot  learn  exactly  how  the  'Reigning  Vice'  has 
sold,  but  I  should  fear  slowly,  for  a  second  edition  is  not  yet 
called  for.  I  rather  expected  that  the  poem  would  become 
popular  from  its  treating  of  subjects  now  talked  of,  and  from 
its  sketches  of  character.  But  I  am  a  nameless  person,  and 
have  no  Colburn  to  puff  me  into  popularity.  No  one  ventures 
to  praise  till  the  reviewers  have  set  the  fashion.  If  you  send 
the  work  to  Jeffrey,  will  you  be  so  good  as  to  mention  that 
young  Macaulay  (of  whom  you  have  heard  I  dare  say)  has 
written  to  me  that  he  shall  be  happy  to  review  the  work  if 
Mr.  Jeffrey  proposes  it.  Being  a  friend  of  mine  he  feels  a 
delicacy  about  making  the  offer  himself.  .... 

With  my  best  wishes  and  regards, 

I  am  your  very  sincere  friend, 
Chadncey  Hare  To\yn!shend. 

From  F.  Jeffrey. 

Mi*  DEAR  SlR,  Edinborough,  4th  November,  1827. 

Indeed,  I  have  not  forgotten  you,  and  have  often,  since  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  here,  enquin  d  a  ter  your  fortunes 
with  an  interest  which  their  unpropitious  aspect  frequently  made 
very  painful.  It  is  a  great  gratification  to  me  to  find  that  you 
are  getting  out  of  your  undeserved  difficulties,  and  are  again 
at  work  with  undaunted  heart  and  unclouded  hope  on  a  subject 
that  (is)  likely  to  be  popular. 

I  do  not  think  I  have  seen  the  poem  of  which  you  speak  so 
highly,  but  1  shall  immediately  send  for  it,  and  if  I  find  it  at 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


37  5 


all  answerable  to  your  description  I  shall  willingly  give  an 
account  of  it  in  the  'Review.'  If  you  have  any  reason  indeed 
to  know  that  Mr.  Macaulay  actually  thinks  so  well  of  it  as  to 
be  willing  to  undertake  the  task  of  giving  it  a  character,  I 
shall  scarcely  require  any  other  proof  of  its  being  entitled  to 
the  distinction  you  require  for  it.  As  I  have  just  finished  a 
new  number  of  the  1  Keview,'  and  it  cannot  possibly  appear 
before  next  January,  it  will  probably  be  right  that  I  should 
read  it  myself  and  confer  with  him  on  the  subject. 

Do  me  the  justh  e  to  believe,  my  dear  ISir,  that  it  will 

always  be  a  grateful  to  be  able  to  serve  and  oblige  you, 

and  that  I  am  always, 

Yours  very  faithfully, 

F.  Jeffrey. 

From  T.  Campbell. 

DEAR  SIR,  4th  December,  1827. 

I  know  no  express  statements  of  the  ancients  against 
dissection,  excepting  that  it  was  a  law  of  Athens  that  the  dead 
should  be  buried,  and  should  not  be  disturbed. 

The  proofs  in  ancient  writers  that  it  was  held  sacrilege 
to  mangle  a  dead  bodv  are  given,  I  know,  in  Sprengel's 
'  Geschichte  der  Chemie,'  or  '  History  of  Physic' 

I  find  a  note  in  my  o»n  Memoranda  referring  to  him  at 
vol.  i.  p.  222,  but  I  cannot,  after  much  search,  lay  my  hand 
on  Sprengel. 

That  the  superstition  of  the  Greeks  attached  extreme  horror 
to  a  body  being  unburied  you  need  no  other  proof  than  Hector's 
speech  to  Achilles  before  his  death,  and  the  circumstance  of 
burying  a  corpse  being  the  subject  of  Sophocles's  Antigone. 
By  looking  at  the  first  note  in  Franklin's  translation  of 
Sophocles  you  will  see  that  that  horror  was  a  notorious  circum- 
stance in  their  creed.* 

I  remain,  yours  truly, 

T.  Campbell. 

*  But  this  proves  nothing.  This  superstition  was  popular,  so  was  the  belii  f 
in  the  gods  and  goddesses  of  Homer.  But  ns  the  men  of  intellect  certainly  dis- 
believed in  the  one — Socrates  was  content  to  die,  sooner  than  profess  a  belief  ia 
the  gods  of  his  country— so  the  men  of  science  were  as  likely  to  disregard  the 
other  when  opposed  to  the  interests  of  science.— El) 


376 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  C.  H.  Townshexd. 

Keswick,  9th  February,  1828. 

Since  I  came  here  we  have  not  lacked  excellent  society, 
good  cheer,  and  Christmas  gambols.  Southey  is  as  frolicksome 
as  a  child,  with  all  his  fine  sense  and  varied  information,  and 
preserves  "a  yonng  lamb's  heart  amongst  the  full  grown 
flocks,"  as  Wordsworth  says.  We  have  had  that  poet  also 
amongst  us.  He  is  a  favourite  author  of  mine,  but  is  rather 
prosy  in  real  life.  He  has  not  Southey 's  elastic  spiiits  and 
«  xtensive  information,  but  is  somewhat  too  solemn  and  didactic. 
I  shall  leave  this  exquisite  scenery  with  reluctance.  Pray 
remember  us  most  kindly  to  Mrs.  Haydon,  of  whom  we  hope 
to  hear  a  good  account. 

Ever  most  sincerely  yours, 

C.  Hare  Townshend. 

From  Lord  Leveson  Gower. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Dublin,  12th  October,  1828. 

I  am  much  obl;ged  to  you  for  the  spirited -sketch  of 
your  picture,  which  I  sincerely  hope  will  have  the  same  success 
as  its  predecessor.  There  is  a  great  field  nearly  untouched  in 
the  line  in  which  you  have  hit,  at  least  I  know  no  one  else  but 
yourself  who  has  ever  attempted  to  unite  the  moral  of  Hogarth 
with  the  excellence  in  execution  of  the  great  models  of  art  in 
Italy  and  Spain.  I  name  the  latter,  because  I  believe  you  are 
as  great  an  admirer  of  Velasquez  as  I  am. 

Believe  me,  ever  yours  sincerely, 
Leveson  Gower. 

To  Lord  Leveson  Gower. 

My  DEAR  Loi'D,  London,  23rd  October,  1828. 

It  is  impossible  for  me  not  to  express  my  admiration  at 
the  concentrated  essence  of  your  criticism  at  the  style  of  art  I 
have  taken  up. 

The  field  is  indeed  untouched,  and  I  came  into  it  with  all 
the  advantages  that  a  severe  education  in  the  highest  style 
can  give  me.    I  drew  and  dissected,  as  Burke  says,  "  knife  in 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


377 


Land,"  for  two  years  before  I  touched  a  brush,  and  whether  I 
paint  high  or  low,  landscape  or  animals,  shall  ever  feel  the 
advantages  of  such  a  system.  No  one  can  carry  heroic  design 
into  moral  and  familiar  life,  but  he  who  has  first  acquired  the 
principles  in  a  higher  department. 

I  thank  you  most  gratefully  for  wishing  my  present  picture 
the  same  success  as  the  last.  I  heard  from  Lord  Mount  Charles 
yesterday,  saying  that  my  little  present  to  the  King  of  maps 
and  sketches  had  been  graciously  received  by  his  Majesty.  I 
have  to  thank  your  Lordship  for  the  use  of  your  name  to 
which  I  owe  this  high  honour. 

I  wish  to  add  that  in  painting  these  familiar  subjects  1 
proceed  as  in  history.  I  draw  every  figure  first  from  the 
naked,  and  make  studies  for  every  limb  be  lore  painting. 

I  once  saw  a  cartoon  by  Raphael  in  which  three  hands  were 
drawn  on  one  arm,  as  he  had  not  decided  where  to  place  the 
hand  in  the  picture. 

Pray  believe  me,  your  Lordship's 
Most  grateful  and  obliged  servant, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

To  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence. 

My  dear  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  17th  March,  1828. 

In  reading  Cennini's  work  on  the  mechanical  processes 
of  Art,  I  met  with  a  mode  of  making  a  vehicle  which  is  liquid 
and  exquisite.  I  have  never  spent  two  hours  in  searching  after 
vehicle  in  my  life,  but  as  Cennini  was  a  pupil  of  Taddeo  Gaddi, 
who  was  a  pupil  of  Angelo  Gaddi,  who  was  a  pupil  of  Giotto,  I 
thought  it  worth  while  to  try  something  of  his  recommenda- 
tion, as  an  experiment,  knowing,  as  you  do,  the  simplicity  of 
those  early  great  men.  He  says,  "While  pure  linseed  oil  is 
simmering  on  the  fire,  put  into  every  pound  of  liquid  oil  one 
ounce  of  liquid  varnish."  I  took  pure  drying  oil,  previously 
boiled  eight  hours  in  a  chafing-dish  (with  nothing  in  it),  and 
to  every  pint  I  threw  in  an  ounce  of  fine  picked  mastick, 
boiling  the  whole  two  hours  more,  and  I  assure  you  it  is  a 
divine  vehicle,  just  holding  the  brush  sufficient  to  give  a  gummy 
touch.    It  cannot  crack,  from  the  tough  nature  of  pure  oil. 


378 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


You  told  me  you  like  the  'Mock  Election';  both  the  side 
groups  are  painted  up  at  once  with  this  "  material." 

Faithfully  yours, 

B.  K.  Haydox. 


From  John  Mai;tin,  the  Painter. 

Dear  Sin, 

I  perfectly  recollect  the  conversation  we  held  last 
autumn  in  a  box  facing  the  palace  in  Kensington  Gardens,  and 
also  your  asking  me  if  I  did  not  think  that  "  Sir  Walter  Scott 
relating  a  story  to  all  the  most  eminent  characters  of  the  day  " 
would  be  a  most  interesting  subject  for  a  picture.  I  fully  con- 
curred, and  thought  it  particularly  adapted  to  your  pencil.* 
Yours  truly, 

John  Martin. 


To  Thomas  Moore. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  London,  23rd  January,  1830. 

Unable  to  bear  the  prosy  procrastination  of  library  readers, 
I  ventured  on  an  indulgence,  and  bought  your  book  ('  Life  of 
Lord  Byron '),  which  I  have  read  and  re-read  with  delight  and 
melancholy. 

The  world  will  soon  acknowledge  it  as  one  of  the  most  exquisite 
pieces  of  biography  in  the  language,  and  although  Sheridan's 
was  delightful,  yet  in  style  of  writing  and  calmness  of  deduc- 
tion you  have  beaten  it  hollow. 

Perhaps  you  should  not  have  concluded  that  marriage  for 
men  of  great  genius  was  likely  to  be  unhappy  because  many 
of  such  men  who  were  married  had  been  so.  Might  not  the 
caution  have  been  applied  to  the  character  of  the  woman  to  bo 
chosen  ? 

Surely,  when  a  man  of  great  genius  marries  a  woman  who  is 
perfectly  content  with  the  reflection  of  his  splendour,  and  is 

*  This  must  be  in  reference  to  the  well-known  picture,  the  painter  of  which 
would  seem  to  have  taken  all  the  credit  of  the  idea  to  himself,  when  it  would 
appear  he  got  it  from  Havdon,  who  is  vexed  at  being  anticipated.  Havdon 
sum  red  from  this  frequently,  and  in  more  ways  than  one.  Hazlitt  used  to'tnko 
raptive  some  of  his  most  telliug  expressions,  and  ruthlessly  print  them  as  hia 
owu.-Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


379 


willing  to  be  informed  by  him  alone,  who  watches  his  moments 
of  abstraction,  and  never  intrudes,  though  lovely  as  an  angel, 
into  his  solitude ;  but  when  she  sees  he  wishes  for  solitude  no 
longer,  such  a  wife  would  have  softened  and  subdued  and  not 
lost  Byron,  have  saved  Milton  from  all  his  domestic  harassings, 
and  have  doubled  the  tranquillity  of  Bacon  or  Locke. 

1  venture  to  think  you  may  do  injury  to  the  thoughtless  and 
unsettled  by  laying  down  such  a  principle  as  the  one  I  take  the 
liberty  to  allude  to ;  and  will  you  pardon  my  saying  that  I 
think  posterity  will  not  bear  you  out  in  placing  Byron  by  the 
side  of  Shakespeare?  Byron  says  of  himself  (p.  640),  "  I  could 
not  write  upon  anij  thing  without  some  personal  experience  and 
foundation."  Herein,  as  it  appears  to  me,  is  contained  the  whole 
principle  of  his  genius.  He  required  the  stimulus  of  personal 
suffering  or  experience  to  develope  any  human  feeling,  and  the 
excitement  of  personal  observation  of  spots  rendered  immortal 
by  others  to  describe  his  scenery. 

Ought  this  degree  of  invention  to  be  put  on  the  same  level 
with  the  self-acting,  innate  pouring-out  of  Shakespeare's 
faculty?  Shakespeare,  who  immortalised  what  he  touched  by 
the  radiance  of  his  own  power,  however  obscure  before ;  who 
invented  characters  independent  of  his  own  experience,  and 
conveyed  their  essence  to  the  reader  by  a  few  words,  making 
each  man  develope  himself?    Sure'y  not ! 

1  wish  that  I  had  known  Lord  Byron.  Douglas  Kinnaird 
promised,  when  I  was  introduced  to  him,  to  introduce  me  to 
Byron  ;  but  we  never  met  again. 

Pray  pardon  this  letter,  and 

Believe  me,  ever  your  admirer, 

B.  B.  Haydon. 

From  C.  H.  Townshend. 

MY  DEAR  HaYDON,  Keswick,  15th  March,  1830. 

I  was  glad  to  receive  such  unequivocal  proofs  of  your 
success  in  the  papers  which  you  were  so  good  as  to  send  me. 
I  had  also  seen  favourable  notices  of  your  two  great  works 
('  Eucles  '  and  '  Punch  ')  in  the  '  Observer,'  the  '  Literary 
Gazette,'  the  '  Court  Journal,'  &c,  &c,  so  that  every  voice 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


seems  to  unite  in  your  praise.  They  all  seem  astonished  (as 
well  they  may)  that  you  are  not  at  the  head  of  the  Royal 
Academy.  Will  you  ever  have  justice  done  you  on  this  side  of 
the  grave  ?  I  long  to  see  '  Eucles '  in  its  finished  state,  and 
'  Punch.'  Are  you  not  the  only  instance  on  record  of  two  such 
dissimilar  works  (each  first-rate  in  its  style)  proceeding  from 
the  brush  of  one  individual  ?  Southey  is  pleased  to  hear  of 
your  success.  As  to  Wordsworth,  I  neither  see  him,  nor  am 
likely  to  <ee  him,  for  you  must  know  that  I  have  been  dis- 
covered by  him  to  be  the  author  of  a  certain  essay,  in  four 
parts,  on  the  'Theory  and  Writings  of  —  Wordsworth,'  which 
appeared  recently  in  'Blackwood.'  This  said  essay  did  not 
please  the  bard,  and  he  wrote  to  Southey  a  note,  which,  in 
mighty  plain  terms,  declined  all  further  acquaintance  with  so 
audacious  a  profligate.  I  did  not  think  that  literary  vanity 
could  be  carried  so  far,  for  the  essay  was  anything  but  hostile. 
It  allotted  him,  as  some  think,  an  undue  share  of  merit,  and  it 
was  wholly  free  from  anything  personal.  I  only  regret  the 
matter  on  Southey's  account,  and  because  I  am  sorry  to  lose 
the  acquaintance  of  Wordsworth's  family,  who  are  really 
amiable.  Wordsworth  himself  I  always  thought  very  heavy  in 
hand — the  prince  of  prosers — yet  he  is  a  glorious  poet.  What 
a  paradi  >x ! 

Since  I  wrote  to  you  last  I  have  spent  a  week  at  Edin- 
burgh with  Wilson.  Unfortunately  I  caught  cold  on  the 
journey,  and  was  able  to  go  out  very  little.  Sir  Walter  also 
was  too  unwell  to  see  anybody,  so  that  I  met  with  many 
disappointments.  Altogether,  I  was  disappointed  in  Edin- 
burgh. The  city  is  much  smaller  than  I  expected,  and  the 
boasted  new  town  is  a  London  on  a  little  scale.  The  old 
town,  and  the  view  from  the  North  Bridge,  cannot  be  over- 
praised. It  is  perhaps  the  finest  architectural  combination  in 
Europe. 

The  second  part  of  the  '  Reigning  Vice  '  is  about  to  appear 
in  'Blackwood.'  I  like  Wilson  moie  and  more.  He  is  tiuly 
kind-hearted. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Haydon, 

Yours,  ever  sincerely, 


C.  Hare  Townshend. 


J}.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


33i 


From  Dr.  Haviland. 

DEAR  SIR,  Cambridge,  I9th  June,  1S30. 

I  fully  agree  with  you  in  thinking  that  an  acquaintance 
with  the  fine  arts,  and  the  study  of  the  principles  on  which 
they  depend,  is  a  very  essential  part  of  a  gentleman's  educa- 
tion. I  believe,  too,  that  lectures  on  this  subject  would  meet 
with  encouragement  here,  particularly  if  they  were  given  by  a 
competent  person.  The  great  difficulty  would  arise  in  finding 
a  person  qualified  to  perform  the  duties  of  the  professorship, 
supposing  such  a  one  founded.  Our  professorships  are  com- 
monly limited  to  graduates  of  the  University,  and  in  establish- 
ing one  nothing  more  is  required  than  to  give  or  bequeath  a 
sum  of  money  sufficient  for  that  purpose.  The  founder  usually 
determines  the  method  by  which  the  appointment  is  to  take 
place,  whether  by  election  or  otherwise. 

I  was  not  surprised,  though  much  grieved,  at  the  date  of 
your  letter.*  I  had  previously  hoped  that  your  recent  success 
in  a  more  profitable  employment  of  your  pencil  than  the  one 
by  which  you  had  acquired  so  much  eminence  would  have  been 
the  means  of  preserving  you  from  all  pecuniary  difficulties. 
There  is  certainly  in  this  country  a  lamentable  deficiency  in 
the  true  love  of  the  Fine  Arts. 

Believe  me,  &c, 

J.  Haviland. 


From  Washington  Irving. 

_  8,  Argvle  Street,  London. 

MY  DEAR  SIR,  2nd  September,  1830. 

I  am  sorry  you  should  think  anything — anything  which 
fell  from  you  in  the  course  of  my  visit  the  other  morning  could 
be  otherwise  than  interesting  to  me.  The  grievances  of  an 
artist  of  genius  by  distinction  belong  to  the  history  of  his  art, 
and  are  not  like  the  sordid  concerns  of  men  of  mercenary  and 
vulgar  callings.  I  hopp,  for  the  credit  of  the  arts  in  England, 
you  may  not  long  have  the  same  reason  of  complaint,  but  that 
those  whose  rank  and  opulence  give  them  the  means  of  patron- 
age, who  have  so  publicly  and  repeatedly  acknowledged  the 

*  TLe  King's  Bench  Prison.— Ed. 


3?2 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


superiority  of  your  talents,  will  bestow  more  effectual  en- 
couragement than  mere  empty  praise. 

I  remain,  my  dear  Sir, 

With  great  respect  and  esteem, 

Washington  Irving. 

To  Lord  Durham,  on  the  loss  of  his  Son. 

30th  Septemb  r,  1831. 

No  one  living,  dear  Lord  Durham,  feels  more  sympathy 
for  you  an  1  Lady  Durham  than  I  do.  After  all  the  anxiety  of 
infancy,  all  the  cares  of  education,  all  the  anticipations  of 
future  eminence,  to  lose  such  a  beautiful  boy  in  the  budding 
spring  of  life  is  a  pang  time  may  soften,  but  will  never 
obliterate. 

Yet,  after  all,  is  it  not  an  escape  ?  When  it  pleases  God  to 
take  from  us  a  dear  child,  and  to  Himself,  ought  we  to  repine? 
Consider  what  is  life,  and  where  it  leaves  us.  And  although 
his  rank  and  station  would  have  secured  him  from  the  lesser 
ills  and  afflictions,  and  have  saved  him  from  being  stretched 
upon  the  rack  of  this  tough  world,  yet  all  classes  have  their 
afflictions,  and  at  least  you  will  not  lament  he  has  now  missed 
for  ever  the  piercing  sorrow  which  his  parents  feel  for  him. 
l'ray  pardon  my  saying  that  employment,  active  and  instant, 
is  your  only  refuge. 

Believe  me,  with  every  expression  of  my  warmest  sympathy 
for  yourself  and  Lady  Durham, 

B.  R.  IJaydon. 

From  Goethe 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Weimar,  1st  December,  1831. 

The  letter  which  you  have  had  the  kindness  to  address  to 
me  has  afforded  me  the  greatest  pleasure ;  for  as  my  soul  has 
been  elevated  for  many  years  by  the  contemplation  of  the  im- 
portant pictures  formerly  sent  to  me,  which  occupy  an  honour- 
able station  in  my  house,  it  cannot  but  be  highly  gratifying  to 
me  to  learn  that  you  still  remember  me,  and  embrace  this 
opportunity  of  convincing  me  that  you  do  so. 

Most  gladly  will  I  add  my  name  to  the  list  of  subscribers  to 


B.  R.  HAY  DON. 


383 


your  very  valuable  painting,*  and  I  shall  give  directions  to  my 
banker  here  to  forward  you  the  amount  of  my  ticket,  through 
the  hands  of  his  correspondents  in  London,  Messrs.  Coutts 
and  Co. 

Eeserving  to  myself  the  liberty  at  a  future  period  for  further 
information,  as  well  about  the  matter  in  question  and  the 
picture  that  is  to  be  raffled  for,  as  concerning  other  objects  of 
Art,  I  beg  to  conclude  the  present  letter  by  recommending 
myself  to  yuur  friendly  remembrance. 

W.  von  Goethe. 

From  Edward  Smith. 

DEAR  HaYDON,  Sunday,  2  nd  Febnwry,  1832. 

I  was  not  able  to  send  the  Bible  yesterday,  and  I  there- 
fore take  the  opportunity  of  sending  it  this  morning,  that  I 
may  at  the  same  time  make  one  particular  request,  which 
I  hope  thou  wilt  yield  to,  and  that  is,  "  That  no  part  of  the 
picture  now  in  hand  for  me  may  be  painted  on  this  day,"f 
because  if  I  knew  of  such  a  thing  being  done  I  should  always 
have  such  associations  with  the  picture  as  would  render  it  a 
painful  rather  than  a  pleasing  one  to  me.  I  wish  to  encourage 
thee  to  act  by  the  book  thou  art  now  about  to  honour  by  thy 
pencil,  for  the  more  the  mind  is  obediently  subjected  thereto, 
the  more  shall  we  find  the  favour  of  Him  who  can  bless  us  or 
otherwise  as  He  sees  meet.  But  this  is  commonplace,  yet  duty 
is  so  simple  a  thing,  and  disobedience  so  common,  and  too  often 
so  pleasant  as  to  afford  a  very  sufficient  apology  for  a  friendly 
hint.  Did  we  strive  to  live  and  walk  in  the  spirit  so  often 
adverted  to,  in  the  New  Testament  more  especially,  we  should 
avoid  many  hurtful  and  painful  things,  have  fewer  occasions 
for  repentance,  and  more  of  acknowledgment  of  and  trust  in 
Him  who  gives  His  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  Him.  This 
is  simple  scripture,  and  wherever  any  habitual  breach  of  God's 
commands  is  indulged  in,  whether  it  involves  a  want  of  love  to 
Him,  or  towards  our  neighbour,  or  of  due  respect  for  ourselves, 
it  is  well  for  us  to  be  reminded  that  the  Scriptures  which  we 
profess  to  believe  in  will  be  our  condemnation  in  the  last  day. 
Love,  joy,  peace,  long-sufLriug,  gentleness,  goodness,  faith, 

*  '  Xenophnn  and  the  Ten  Thousand.' — Ed. 

t  It  was  not  my  father's  practice  to  paint  on  Sundays. — En. 


3§4 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


meekness,  temperance,  these  are  the  fruits  not  of  the  spirit 
which  is  of  this  world,  thou  knowest,  Haydon,  but  of  the  spirit 
which  is  of  God.  Let  us  seek  this  spirit,  let  us  pray  for  it, 
let  us  walk  in  it  and  obey  it,  and  then,  whatever  others  do,  we 
shall  feel  our  hearts  clothed  with  charity,  in  which  we  shall 
love  even  our  enemies,  so  far,  at  least,  as  not  to  speak  evil  of 
them. 

Perhaps  thou  wilt  perceive  that  in  these  hints  I  am  disposed 
to  lay  an  embargo  on  some  of  thy  habits  of  speaking,  which 
savour  of  a  different  nature  to  what  I  have  alluded  to  ?  If  so, 
I  hope  it  will  break  no  bones,  nor  show  me  to  be  other  than 
thy  real  friend. 

Edward  Smith. 

To  Lord  Durham,  upon  his  sending  his  Portrait  as  a 
Memento. 

My  DEAR  LORD,  London,  lGth  May,  1832. 

I  have  never  felt  more  honoured.  I  will  put  your  speech 
upon  the  second  reading  (of  the  Reform  Bill)  behind  the  en- 
graving, and  leave  it  as  a  sacred  deposit  with  my  children. 

The  power  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  possessed  of  catching, 
remembering,  and  transferring  the  happiest  expressions  was 
never  more  strikingly  displayed. 

In  future  I  shall  certainly  claim  for  myself  some  share  of 
repute  for  political  sagacity.  Your  triumph — that  of  the 
people — will  yet  be  complete.  The  people  of  England  -have 
an  instinct  that  they  will  now  either  lay  the  foundation  of 
ultimate  slavery  or  of  complete  emancipation,  and  that  the 
great  battle  for  the  constitutional  liberty  of  the  world  is 
righting  here. 

Believe  me  to  remain,  yours  most  gratefully, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

From  Jos.  Scholefield. 

My  DEAR  SIR,  Birmingham,  19th  Peptc  mher,  1832. 

You  cannot  feel  more  mortified  than  myself  at  the  want 
of  patriotism  and  public  spirit  in  the  non-support  to  your 


B.  HAYDON. 


3^5 


intended  national  work ;  *  but  we  are  by  misgovernment 
become  an  impoverished  people,  and  to  add  to  our  misery  we 
are  also  a  degraded  people.  The  rascally  Tory  system  has 
lowered  the  poor  Englishman  in  the  eyes  of  all  Europe  as  well 
as  in  his  own  eyes.  If  the  new  Parliament  does  not  assert  the 
rights  of  our  countrymen  and  give  them  redress  for  their  wrongs, 
it  ought  to  be  sunk  into  the  sea.  If  I  were  wealthy  enough 
you  should  never  want  an  order  for  a  painting,  but  shame  on 
our  king  and  nobles  and  rich  commoners  that  they  permit  such 
a  man  as  yourself  to  suffer  all  the  pangs  of  poverty  without 
remorse,  and  apparently  without  shame. 

I  shall  not,  however,  fail  to  continue  to  solicit  subscribers. 
My  friend  Attwood  has  sent  me  your  letter :  he  will  not  advance 
any  money. 

Believe  me  most  unfeignedly 

Your  friend  and  well-wisher 

JOS.  SuHOLEFIELD. 


To  the  Eight  Hon.  Edward  Ellice. 

My  DEAR  SIR,  4th  May,  1833. 

Your  advice  is  excellent,  but  the  constitution  of  the 
Eoyal  Academy  and  its  reformation  must  be  after  considera- 
tion, when  its  defects  are  proved  by  investigation  and  report. 

The  Eoyal  Academy  to  be  effectually  reformed  must  be 
based  in  its  reformation  upon  a  system  of  encouragement  for 
High  Art.  For  let  the  Academy  be  ever  so  reformed,  and 
High  Art  left  without  support,  the  Academy  will  again  in  a 
few  years  fall  back  into  its  present  corruption. 

How  can  it  be  otherwise  ?  Portrait  painting  has  the  most 
effective  support,  consequently  more  portraits  are  produced 
than  any  other  kind  of  pictures,  and  there  are  more  portrait 
than  any  other  class  of  painters.  The  portrait  painters  mono- 
polise the  power,  the  opulence  and  the  rank.  Why  is  this  ? 
Because  High  Art  is  not  supported  in  England,  and  historical 

*  This  intended  "  national  work  "  was  a  great  picture  in  commemoration  of  the 
Reform  Meeting  on  New  Hull  Common,  in  May  18H2.  But  the  Birmingham 
Reformers  had  no  detire  for  any  other  patriotic  commemoration  of  the  event°tliau 
a  hast.  The  plan  of  a  picture  failed,  and  the  picture  when  half  done  was  aban- 
doned. Out  of  the  list,  of  subscribers  to  the  picture,  upwards  of  one  hundred  of 
the  Biimingham  gentlemen  never  pa.d  up  their  subscription.— Ed. 
VOL.  L  2  c 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


painters  in  number,  rank,  or  wealth,  have  not  that  considera- 
tion, whatever  be  their  genius,  in  a  commercial  country,  which 
would  enable  them  to,  at  least,  divide  the  empire  with  the 
former. 

First,  place  the  historical  painter  where  he  ought  to  be,  then, 
reform  the  Academy.  Limit  the  number  of  portrait  painters, 
limit  the  number  of  portraits;  abolish  canvassing  for  the 
honours ;  root  out  that  detestable  and  selfish  regulation  which 
sanctions  the  reception  of  the  works  of  the  best  artists  outside 
of  the  Academy  to  make  up  their  exhibition,  and  yet  refuses  to 
these  artists  the  privilege  of  doing  something  to  their  produc- 
tions that,  under  the  circumstance  of  situation  and  light,  the 
public  may  see  their  works  to  the  best  advantage,  a  privilege 
the  academicians  make  full  use  of  to  enhance,  unfairly,  their 
own  works. 

You  say  that  I  "  allude  to  errors  past,"  but,  my  dear  Sir, 
they  exist  now.  The  foundation  of  the  Koyal  Academy  has 
really  done  little  else  than  to  embody  the  portrait  painters  in 
a  phalanx,  who  wield  it  for  their  own  exclusive  advantage. 
They  hate  "High  Art."  They  hate  the  probability  and  pos- 
sibility of  the  people  acquiring  knowledge  in  Art.  They  dread 
the  consequences  which  would  ensue  from  a  proper  support  to 
historical  painting.  All  their  actions  prove  it.  They  obstructed 
and  destroyed  the  only  prospect  it  ever  had  under  Lord  Castle- 
reagh,  and  now  when  50,000?.  are  to  be  voted  for  a  National 
Gallery,  they  step  in  and  get  25,000?.  out  of  it,  to  do  what  ? 
Double  their  own  power  and  entrench  their  own  prejudices. 
If  the  House  grants  these  men  one  guinea  without  a  scrutiny 
into  their  conduct  and  right,  Parliament  will  sign  the  death 
warrant  of  highest  art. 

Believe  me,  truly  yours, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

To  Lord  Palmrrston. 

DeAU  LOHD  PALMERSTON,  4th  November,  1833. 

You  have  more  than  once,  with  characteristic  kindness, 
hinted  to  me  that  I  should  paint  the  'Conference'  at  the 
Foreign  Office.  I  need  hardly  tell  you  how  highly  honoured 
I  should  feel  to  be  entrusted  with  such  a  commission,  and  with 


B.  R.  HA  YDON.  3S7 

what  energy  I  should  devote  myself  to  its  execution  as  soon  as 
I  have  finished  Lady  Grey's  picture. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Lord, 

Your  faithful  servant, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

From  Lord  Palmerston. 

DEAR  SlR,  Broadlands,  10th  November,  1833. 

All  matters  in  this  world,  great  and  small,  turn  on 
finance,  and  before  I  answer  your  note  I  should  like  to  know 
what  would  be  about  the  expense  of  such  a  picture  of  the 
4  Conference '  as  you  suggest. 

'1  he  members  would  be  Talleyrand  for  France,  Esterhazy 
and  YYessemberg  for  Austria,  Lieven  andMatuszewich  for  Russia, 
Bulow  for  Prussia,  myself  for  England,  Dedel  for  Holland,  and 
Van  de  Weyer  for  Belgium. 

I  return  to  town  to-morrow,  so  direct  your  answer  to  Stanhope 
Street. 

Dear  Sir,  yours  faithfully, 

Palmerston. 

To  Lord  Palmerston. 

My  DEAR  LORD,  London,  12th  November,  1833. 

I  know  your  axiom  to  be  too  true.  If  the  portraits  are 
the  full  size  of  life,  and  full  length,  as  there  would  be  nine 
portraits  the  price  would  be  eight  hundred  guineas.  Jf  half 
the  size  of  life  and  yet  full  length,  fivo  hundred  guineas.  If 
the  size  of  life,  like  some  of  Sir  Joshua's  groups,  as  far  as  the 
knees,  five  hundred  guineas. 

I  love  my  art ;  I  do  all  myself  because  I  love  it,  and  I  never 
make  a  "job"  of  a  picture  and  hurry  it  over  by  the  assistance 
of  others. 

You  will  do  me  the  kindness  to  understand  distinctly  that  I 
wish  to  meet  your  views,  because  I  wish  to  paint  the  picture. 

1  am,  my  dear  Lord,  your  faithful  servant, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 
2  c  2 


3°>3 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  Lord  Palmerston. 
My  DEAR  SlR,  26th  November,  1833. 

I  ought  to  have  sooner  answered  your  note  of  the  12th. 
I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  explanation  it  contains  and 
I  will  think  the  matter  over  between  this  and  the  spring,  and 
if  I  should  feel  up  to  a  '  Conference  '  I  will  let  you  hear  from 
me  again. 

My  dear  Sir,  yours  very  faithfully, 

Palmekston. 

To  Lord  Palmerston. 

Mv  DEAR  LORD,  London,  28th  November,  1833. 

Permit  me  to  thank  you  for  your  kind  note.  I  shall 
pray  heartily  all  the  winter  that  you  may  be  "  up  to  a  Con- 
ference "  in  the  spring. 

In  the  meantime,  would  it  not  be  prudent  to  secure,  by  a 
sketch,  Talleyrand?  He  is  old  and  may  drop  off  all  of  a 
sudden.    But  I  leave  that  to  your  Lordship's  discretion. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Lord,  faithfully  yours, 
B.  B.  Haydon. 

To  Mr.  Edward  Ellice. 

My  DEAR  Mr.  ELLICE,  London,  23rd  April,  1831. 

The  exhibition  of  the  '  Beform  Banquet '  has  failed.  I 
am  losing  money  every  day.  The  middle  class  do  not  support 
it  at  all.  The  nobility  only  come  and  they  do  not  make  the 
mass.  Those  who  gave  me  commissions  do  not  Jceep  their  word. 
I  have  every  prospect,  if  not  instantly  employed,  of  being 
ruined,  of  involving  Lord  Grey's  picture  by  inability  to  pay 
the  rent  of  the  exhibition  rooms,  and  in  fact  of  sinking  again 
into  that  state  of  degradation,  humiliation,  and  disgrace,  out 
of  which  I  hoped  Lord  Grey's  commission  would  have  extri- 
cated me,  both  by  its  influence  and  success.  My  dear  Mr. 
Ellice,  this  is  no  exaggeration,  no  playing  on  your  feelings  by 
inference,  it  is  fact,  and  I  think  it  my  duty  in  time  to  say  so. 
I  do  not  want  you  to  mix  yourself  with  my  affairs,  I  only 
appeal  to  you  if  I  deserve  to  be  in  this  situation. 

I  am  yours  gratefully, 

B.  B.  11 AYDON. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


389 


From  Edward  Ellice. 

DEAR  SlR,  War  Office,  24th  April,  1834. 

My  father  desires  me  to  tell  you  that  he  can  give  no 
advice  on  the  subject  of  your  letter  of  this  morning. 

He  would  have  written  to  you  himself,  but  he  is  obliged  to 
go  down  to  a  Committee  at  the  House  of  Commons  and  has 
not  had  time. 

Yours  faithfully, 

Edward  Ellice,  jun.* 

From  David,  the  Painter. 
Monsieur,  Paris,  24  Mai  1834. 

Une  circonstance  de  mon  voyage  en  Angleterre  s'est 
gravee  profondement  dans  mon  coeur,  c'est  d'avoir  eu  l'avantage 
de  faire  votre  connaissance.  J'en  ai  conserve  une  vive  recon- 
naissance a  mon  ami  Thiers,  qui  m'avait  procure  cet  avantage. 
Je  prends  aujourd'hui  la  liberte  de  vous  presenter  mon  bien 
bon  ami,  M.  Cerrier,  peintre  bien  distingue.  II  va  en  Angle- 
terre pour  voir  les  hommes  remarquables  dans  les  arts.  C'est 
pour  cela  que  je  lui  donne  cette  lettre  d'introduction  aupres  de 
vous. 

Eecevez,  etc. 

David. 

Extract  from  a  Letter  to  Lord  Melbourne. 

Sandgate,  6  th  September,  1834. 

Lord  Bexley,  Lord  Liverpool,  Mr.  Canning,  the  Duke  of 
Wellington,  and  Lord  Grey  have  all  admitted  to  me  the  prin- 
ciple of  public  support  of  High  Art.  It  is  true  Lord  Grey 
said,  "  If  money  is  voted,  it  will  be  a  job!"  But  what  argu- 
ment is  this  ?  It  may  be  reasoning,  but  it  is  bad  reasoning. 
Are- we,  my  dear  Lord,  to  abstain  from  doing  an  acknowledged 
good  for  fear  of  the  probable  mixture  of  evil  ?  On  this  prin- 
ciple God  would  never  have  created  Adam  or  Eve. 

•  This  was  Edward  Ellice's  reply,  referred  to  in  the  Memoir. — Edu 


39° 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


These  ministers  have  missed  their  opportunity.  I'll  pray 
God  to  inspire  you  with  a  conviction  of  its  importance  to  the 
art,  industry,  and  manufactures  of  this  country. 

Ever,  my  dear  Lord,  yours  faithfully, 

B.  K.  Haydos. 

From  Lord  Durham. 

DEAR  SlR,  Lambton  Castle,  2th  November,  1831. 

What  I  said  at  Edinburgh  has  been  correctly  reported. 
I  did  say  that  "  I  regretted  every  hour  which  passed  over  the 
existence  of  recognised  and  unreformed  abuses." 

I  am  as  anxious  as  you  can  be  for  the  encouragement  of  the 
art  of  painting,  but  the  mode  you  suggest  of  announcing  that 
desire  is  not  the  most  desirable. 

Yours  truly, 

Durham. 

To  Lord  Melbourne,  on  his  Resignation  in  November  1834. 

London,  ICth  November. 

Oh,  my  dear  Lord,  what  will  become  of  high  art,  though, 
I  think,  deep  art  seems  flourishing!  I  shall  put  on  mourning. 
You  have  been  scandalously  used  before  the  country  had 
an  opportunity  to  judge  of  your  power. 

Believe  me  most  sincerely  yours, 
B.  B.  Haydon 

To  Lord  Melbourne. 

My  DEAR  LORD,  6th  December,  1831. 

I  have  read  your  excellent  reply  to  the  deputation  from 
Derby  this  morning  with  unfeigned  delight.  You  will  rise 
every  hour  in  public  feeling,  and  you  will  yet  realise  all  that 
those  who  know  you  have  predicted  of  you. 

You  will  be  back  again  in  office  shortly,  I  know,  and  if  you 
are,  and  you  then  forget  "  historical  painting,"  may  you  never 
carry  a  single  measure  with  success ! 

Ever,  my  dear  Lord,  sincerely  yours, 
B.  R.  Haydon. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


39 1 


From  Earl  Guey. 

Howick,  10th  December,  1831. 

Had  I  the  means  of  the  Duke  of  Northumberland,  I 
should  feel  no  difficulty  in  following  the  example  which  you 
quote.  But  at  the  end  of  four  years  in  office  with  the  demands 
of  a  numerous  family  upon  me,  and  threatened  at  this  moment 
with  the  additional  expense  of  a  contested  election,  I  find 
myself  deprived  of  the  power  of  complying  with  your  request. 
I  am  sorry,  therefore,  to  be  under  the  necessity  of  adding  that 
I  can  do  no  more  than  I  have  already  done.* 

I  am,  my  dear  Sir,  yours  truly, 
Grey. 

To  Lord  Stanley  on  his  inaugural  Speech  at  Glasgow. 

My  LORD,  London,  23rd  December,  1834. 

I  honour  you  for  your  moral  courage  in  boldly  speaking 
of  the  necessity  of  deep  religious  feeling.   It  was  new  and  grand. 

Be  assured  half  the  liberality  in  such  matters  is  cant,  and 
proceeds  from  a  total  indifference  to  all  religion  whatever. 

There  is  a  want  in  our  church  of  such  a  genius  as  yourself. 
There  is  no  great  church  leader,  no  zeal,  and  if  ever  the 
church  sinks  it  will  be  not  from  the  ignorance  or  want  of 
conscientious  conviction,  or  deficiency  of  piety  in  the  heads  of 
it,  but  from  submissive  apathy. 

Look  at  the  Romanists,  my  Lord!  See  how  united,  how 
persevering,  how  daring,  how  defying  in  their  conduct !  They 
quail  under  no  circumstances  of  danger  or  disbelief.  Can  that 
be  said  of  our  church  now  ? 

In  Ireland  I  am  told  there  are  livings  which  are  sinecures, 
for  no  congregation  of  Protestants  ever  assembles  to  listen  !  In 
such  cases  would  the  Komanists  have  thought  of  suppressing  the 
livings  ?  Not  at  all.  They  would  have  colonized  the  villages. 
Instead  of  shipping  off  the  English  poor  to  Van  Dioman's  Land, 
why  not  ship  them  to  Ireland,  plant  colonies  of  Protestants,  and 
provide  congregations  for  such  places  ?  There  seems  to  me  to 
be  no  energy  among  our  churchmen  of  this  description,  no 
existing  genius  who  is  ready  to  meet  all  difficulties  and  be 
daunted  by  none.    I  heartily  wish  you  were  our  archbishop. 

*  Haydon  bad  reminded  Lord  Grey  that  a  Duke  of  Northumberland  had  once 
lent  Kemble  lO.OOOZ.  to  aid  him  in  his  profession,  and  to  have  hinted  at  some- 
thing of  the  same  kiud  being  dune  for  himself  by  the  Party,  or  by  Lord  Grey. 


392 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


Your  compliment  to  Lord  Grey  was  worthy  of  you.  Would 
that  you  could  have  all  agreed. 

You  will  perhaps  remember  that  I  told  you  when  last  you 
sat  to  me  where  you  would  one  day  be  by  your  face.  Every 
day  is  adding  to  my  conviction,  and  when  you  are  where  I 
know  you  will  be,  "  Prime  Minister,"  I  shall  put  you  in  mind  of 
my  prediction,  and  claim  your  protection  for  the  decaying  art 
of  my  country. 

Ever,  my  Lord, 

Your  most  grateful  servant, 
B.  E.  Haydon. 

From  Lord  Mulgrave. 

DEAR  HAYDON,  29th  December,  1834. 

I  have  been  very  busy  lately,  but  as  soon  as  L  have  a 
moment  to  mount  my  horse,  I  will  turn  his  head  towards  his 
likeness. 

Yours  truly, 

Mulgrave. 

From  Earl  Spencer. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  19th  January,  1835. 

....  You  wrote  to  me  about  the  sketches  for  the  picture 
of  the  Birmingham  Union.  Your  letter  was  unanswered  when 
my  father's  illness  commenced,  and  that  drove  everything  else 
from  my  mind.  I  have  no  great  ambition  to  have  portraits  of 
those  who  in  courtesy  are  called  the  leaders  of  the  Birmingham 
Union,  but  who  in  fact  were  driven  by  it  wherever  it  chose  to 
drive  them,  and  if  I  had,  I  really  could  n->t  afford  to  make  the 
purchase.*  My  necessary  expenses  press  so  hard  upon  my 
means  that  I  have  not  the  power  of  expending  money  for  things 
even  that  I  wish  for,  if  they  are  not  necessary,  nor,  which  is  a 
good  deal  worse,  of  doing  many  good-natured  things  which  it 
would  gratify  me  very  much  to  do. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Sir, 

Yours  most  truly, 
Spencer. 

*  Lord  Spencer  hud  only  just  succeeded  to  tlio  title  and  had  purchased  tl'O 
chalk  studies  of  the  IfcuvjuYt  The  allusion  to  Attvood  and  others  shows  with 
wh^t  contempt  the  Whig  Government  regarded  those  gentlemen. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


393 


To  Lord  Melbourne. 


My  dear  Lord, 


London,  22nd  June,  1835. 


Why  do  you  suffer  Spring  Rice  to  manage  the  estimates 
in  such  a  way  as  to  advance  the  interests  of  the  Royal  Academy 
at  the  expense  of  the  Art  ?  The  Academy  and  he  baffle  all 
attempts  for  a  committee  of  inquiry,  and  yet  the  Academy  gets 
the  money,  and  in  defiance  of  all  parliamentary  practice,  viz., 
fiist,  to  investigate,  and  then  to  grant,  whereas  what  is  allowed 
now  is  first,  the  grant  and  then  the  investigation,  perhaps. 

Last  year  it  was,  "  There  are  too  many  committees,  wait  till 
next  session."  I  waited,  and  now  it  is,  "  wait  again,"  and  yet 
they  get  the  money !  Next  year  Shee  and  Spring  Rice  will 
look  out  of  the  National  Gallery  windows,  and,  with  a  sneer, 
ask  the  committee  to  walk  in. 


I  have  reflected  on  your  question:  ""What  mourning 
was  worn  by  the  Jews  in  the  time  of  the  prophets?"  If  you 
look  at  Jeremiah,  chap.  viii.  v.  2l,  also  chap.  xiv.  v.  2,  and 
again  at  Isaiah,  chap,  1.  v.  3,  it  will  conclusively  appear,  and  no 
other  inference  can  be  drawn  from  the  passages  named,  that 
Mack  was  the  colour  decidedly ;  sackcloth,  we  know,  was  the 
material. 


Ever,  my  dear  Lord, 

Your  grateful  servant, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 


From  Mr.  Hart. 


My  dear  Sir, 


London,  15th  November,  1835. 


Faithfully  yours, 


J.  Hart,  Sen. 


To  Lord  Melbourne. 


My  dear  Lord, 


Loudon,  30th  December,  1835. 


As  the  session  approaches  I  get  anxious.  In  spite  of  your 
visible  and  abominable  indifference  to  the  importance  of  High 


394 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


Art,  1  am  wedded  to  the  "Whigs  as  a  man  is  to  his  wife,  and  I 
therefore  cannot  help  hoping  and  believing  you  will  be  found 
equal  to  the  coming  crisis. 

Next  session  will  settle  your  predominance  or  effect  your 
discomfiture,  and  you  will  be  remembered  by  posterity  as  a 
nobleman  who  made  an  attempt  you  were  not  justified  in,  or 
which  your  talents  proved  you  fully  equal  to. 

It  is  great  emergencies  which  bring  out  the  man,  and  if  you 
fail,  adieu  to  the  predominance  of  the  Whigs  for  ever  ! 

As  I  believe  you  to  be  adequate  to  a  great  moment,  I 
hold  you  up  to  my  circle  with  confidence  (always  lamenting 
your  indifference  to  art),  and  I  venture  to  think  one  great 
evidence  of  your  probable  triumph  is  the  rage  of  the  opposite 
press. 

Permit  me,  in  conclusion,  to  beg  of  you  to  leave  nothing  to 
Providence  but  His  blessing  of  your  efforts ;  to  anticipate 
failure  from  the  slightest  neglect,  to  act  up  to  the  very  last 
moment  as  if  all  depended  on  the  merest  trifle,  and  not  to  relax 
night  or  day  till  victory  crowns  you,  and  not  even  then,  if 
anything  remains  to  complete  it. 

You  may  smile,  but  believe  me  this  comes  from  a  mind 
accustomed  to  success,  and  schooled  in  adversity,  and  well  aware 
of  what  is  requisite  in  both. 

One  thing  let  me  beg  of  you.  Not  only  would  I  tear  all 
letters  into  bits,  but  I  would  burn  the  bits  and  all  private 
communications  when  done  with.  I  feel  perfectly  convinced 
that  nothing  did  Lord  Grey's  administration  so  much  harm 
as  the  treachery  connected  with  the  publication  of  Lord  Al- 
thorp's  and  Lord  Brougham's  letters  about  the  '  Times.' 

You  may  rely  on  it  the  rewards  held  out,  and  paid,  keep 
traitors  on  the  watch.  Do  not,  I  beg  of  you,  disregard  this. 
God  send  you  success,  and  the  conviction  at  the  same  time 
that  no  minister  can  ever  complete  his  glory  without  protecting 
native  genius  in  art. 

I  am,  my  dear  Lord, 

Tout  sincere  friend, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


395 


From  Theodor  Von  Holst. 

4(i,  Upper  Charlotte  Street, 
DEAR  SlR,  14ih  January,  18:-S0-. 

Accept  a  thousand  thanks  for  your  great  kindness  in 
sending  me  the  admissions  to  your  splendid  lectures.  I  can- 
not express  how  very  highly  I  was  gratified,  and  I  hope  much 
improved  hy  your  discourses,  the  excellence  of  which  I  am  sure 
can  never  be  surpassed  for  energetic  love  for  the  great  and 
noble  enthusiasm  for  country  and  glory  of  historic  art,  which, 
alas  !  so  few  can  feel  with  yourself. 

I  may  add  that  you  have  awakened  in  my  own  unworthy 
insignificance  the  more  than  half-extinguished  flame  of  early 
ambition.    The  only  regret  I  feel  is  that  I  had  not  the  enviable 
good  fortune  to  have  been  under  your  tuition. 
I  have  the  honour  to  remain,  dear  Sir, 

With  the  highest  consideration  and  respect, 

Theodor  Von  Holst. 

From  the  Hon.  W.  Cowper. 

My  DEAR  Mr.  HAYDON,  Chatsworth,  15th  September,  1S36. 

I  have  only  just  got  your  letter,  which  has  followed  me 
here.  I  feel  most  deep'y  grieved  to  hear  of  the  calamity  which 
has  befallen  you,*  and  I  do  blush  for  a  state  of  society  in 
which  talents  and  genius,  such  as  yours,  meet  with  such  a 
reward.  I  had  hoped  that  it  was  only  in  history  I  should  have 
to  deplore  the  fate  of  men  of  powerful  minds  and  imagination 
immured  within  a  prison  for  debt.  I  had  no  right  to  expect 
that  I  should  see  it  in  my  own  day.  ( 

I  have  forwarded  your  note  to  Lord  Melbourne,  at  Brocket, 
and  thank  you  for  the  feeling  of  delicacy  which  dictated  it. 

If  any  way  in  which  I  could  be  of  use  to  you  should  occur 
to  your  mind,  pray  do  not  hesitate  to  tell  me. 

Believe  me  ever  faithfully  yours, 

War.  Cowper. 

*  Haydon's  arrest  and  imprisonment  for  a  debt  of  18'.  on  9th  September,  1836. 
—Ed. 


39^ 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


To  his  Sister,  Mrs.  Haviland. 

My  DEAR  HAL,  London,  2nd  September,  1837. 

I  dare  say  you  will  all  be  surprised  that  Her  Majesty 
does  nothing  for  me,  but  pray  do  not  be.  There  is  no  man  who 
would  enjoy  honours  more  than  myself,  but  the  sacrifice  of  the 
thought  and  action  would  not  suit  my  nature. 

"  Blessed  are  those 
Who  have  their  honest  wills — that  seasons 
Comfort  ." 

I  would  accept  nothing  unless  I  was  free,  and  free  I  should 
not  be  for  a  moment. 

I  have  received  an  honour  more  to  my  taste  in  a  commission 
for  a  picture  for  a  church  in  Liverpool,  "  Suffer  little  children 
to  come  unto  me,"  a  beautiful  subject ;  so  here  is  a  public 
order  after  all.  Don't  say  a  word  about  it  at  Kensington.  I 
shall  go  on  quietly  and  work  away.  Do  write  and  tell  me  the 
news.    Love  to  all. 

Your  affectionate 

H.  R.  Haydon. 


To  Lord  Melbourne. 

My  DEAR  LORD,  London,  27th  October,  1837. 

Do  not  on  a  theory  of  philosophic  geniality  reduce  Eng- 
land to  the  level  of  other  nations  for  fear  of  the  imputations  of 
"  prejudice  "  in  wishing  her  to  take  the  lead. 

There  are  some  prejudices  which  are  instincts  or  virtues,  and 
the  glory  and  predominance  of  one's  fatherland  is  not  the  most 
contemptible  among  them. 

I  am  ever  and  always  yours, 

B.  E.  Haydon. 

To  Lord  Melbourne. 

My  DEAR  LORD,  25th  December,  1837. 

I  cannot  help  thinking  it  is  a  pity  that  at  a  certain 
period  of  colonial  existence  there  does  not  exist  a  law  of  free- 
dom from  the  mother  country.    I  do  not  think  we  are  a  noble- 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


397 


minded  nation  on  these  points.  We  are  like  a  father  who  is 
unwilling  to  give  up  the  rod  when  his  son  is  twenty-one,  because 
he  had  the  right  when  the  boy  was  ten  years  of  age. 

I  wish  you  health  and  success  and  many  returns,  with  all 
my  heart,  of  this  rejoicing  time  of  year. 

Ever  sincerely  yours, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 


To  Lord  Melbourne. 

My  DEAR  LORD,  Leeds,  2,  Park  Street,  7th  January,  1838. 

I  hope  your  worthy  President  of  the  Board  of  Trade 
has  his  eyes  opened  at  last  about  his  beautiful  School  of  Design 
in  London — 1500^.  a-year  to  keep  the  mechanic  as  ignorant  as 
before. 

Do  not  let  it  go  on.  Your  character  has  been  sacrificed  to 
suit  the  narrow  views  of  his  constituents,  many  of  whom  believe 
the  mechanic  had  better  remain  as  ignorant  as  now,  and  fear  if 
he  learn  to  draw  the  figure  he  will  cease  to  draw  flowers. 
Believe  me,  my  dear  Lord,  the  cause  of  the  superiority  of 
France  and  Italy  in  their  design  is  in  their  union  of  artist 
and  mechanic.  This  union  is  in  force  in  Scotland,  and  one 
result  at  this  moment  is  that,  a  certain  house  in  Manchester, 
which  manufactures  an  article  of  unequalled  material,  is  obliged 
to  send  1 1,000  dozens  annually  to  Edinborough  to  have  the 
pattern  designed !  If  desired,  names  shall  be  sent.  A  rival 
school  to  the  Government  school  in  London  is  being  started  by 
Wise  and  Ewart,  which  never  would  have  been  the  case  if  the 
Government  school  had  been  founded  according  to  my  advice. 
But  Mr.  Poulett-Thompson's  eyes  are  perhaps  open  now,  though 
obstinately  shut  at  my  interview. 

Believe  me, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 


From  J.  R.  Prentice,  Secretary  of  the  Edinburgh  Society  of 
Artists. 

4,  St.  Andrew  Square,  Edinburgh, 
DEAR  SIR.  23rd  December,  1837. 

I  am  happy  to  inform  you  that  your  picture  of  '  Poic- 
tiers '  arrived  here  quite  safe  this  afternoon ;  and  also  at  the 


398 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


same  time  your  picture  of  '  Falstaff  and  Hal,'  which  Mr.  Hope 
has  had  the  kindness  to  honour  us  with,  and  for  both  of  which 
the  Edinburgh  Society  of  Artists  beg  you  will  accept  their 
most  grateful  thanks. 

Before  I  conclude,  permit  me  to  inform  you  that  when  your 
beautiful  and  noble  picture  of  '  Poictiers  '*  was  opened  and 
spread  out,  it  was  received  by  the  committee  with  the  greatest 
rapture  and  delight ;  and  again  I  beg  to  say  that  they  can  never 
forget  your  kindness  and  generosity  in  again  supporting  their 
efforts,  and  which  I  feel  confident  will  be  the  means  of  esta- 
blishing this  society  on  a  firm  foundation,  &c. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be,  dear  Sir, 

With  great  respect,  &c, 

J.  P.  PltENTICE. 

From  Haydon  to  his  Wife. 

January,  1838.f 

After  I  was  gone,  the  Council  of  the  Eoyal  Institution 
(Manchester)  appointed  a  sub-committee  to  enquire  and  report 
on  the  school  of  design,  and  what  did  these  gentlemen  do  in 
their  innocent  ignorance  ?  Why  they  wrote  up  to  Poulett- 
Thompson,  who  replied  that  the  plan  of  founding  a  school  of 
design  in  Manchester  was  of  no  use,  for  their  school  in  London 
was  doing  nothing,  and  so  the  whole  project  fell  to  the  ground. 
'J  his  is  so  like  the  "  Poulett-Thompsons  "  of  the  world.  If  we 
only  had  professors  of  art  at  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  men  like 
1  'oulett-Thompson,  or  at  least  men  in  his  official  position,  would 
better  understand  the  enormous  value  to  this  country  of  a 
sound  knowledge  of  design  among  mechanics  and  artists  of 
every  class.  These  official  men  do  not  know  and  cannot  be 
brought  to  understand  that,  at  first  all  Academies  of  art  were 
schools  with  teachers,  schools  where  the  artist  and  mechanic, 
the  painter  and  the  upholsterer,  the  decorator  and  the  me- 
chanic, the  saddler,  the  carver,  the  sculptor,  and  worker  in 

*  '  The  Black  Prince  and  Lord  Audley  at  the  battle  of  Poictiers,'  painted  for 
the  late  Lord  Audley.— Ed. 

t  Tn  1835-6,  1837-8,  my  father  was  much  interested  in  pushing  the  establish- 
ment of  the  school  of  design  at  Miincl  ester.  It  had  been  started  in  1837,  but 
during  his  absence  in  London  his  advice  was  disregarded,  and  owing  to  the  notion 
of  the  Council  in  London,  matters  went  very  wrong.  On  revisiting  Manchester  in 
January,  183S,  he  writes  to  my  mother.— Ld. 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


399 


metals,  all  met  together,  and  learned  under  the  same  teachers, 
the  great  artists  of  the  period,  so  that  each  got  their  knowledge 
from  the  highest  source.  This  is  the  reason  why  the  Greeks, 
and  Italians,  and  French,  so  far  excel  us  in  their  beauty  of 
design. 

But  our  ignorance  is  so  painful,  that  when  we  found  a 
school  in  London,  the  Authorities  actually  forbid  the  mechanic 
to  study  the  same  course  as  the  artist ! 

I  should  have  said  that  about  a  century  after  the  early  schools 
I  have  spoken  of,  the  modern  "Academy"  of  art,  with  titles 
and  honours,  made  its  appearance,  became  exclusive,  and  ruined 
the  art. 

Mr.  Fraser,  a  most  influential  man  here,  has,  nevertheless, 
headed  a  fresh  subscription-list,  and  we  make  another  start 
once  more.  At  dinner  last  night  I  met  Mr.  Hey  wood,  the 
banker,  and  he  said,  "  You  will  have  no  difficulty  with  your 
school  of  design ;  and  if  the  shares  bore  interest,  its  success 
would  be  assured,  though,  for  my  part,  I  pre'er  a  donation." 
This  is  thoroughly  commercial,  is  it  not  ?  But  in  a  commercial 
country  one  must  work  by  the  means  in  use.  When  I  told 
them  at  my  last  lecture  that  it  was  from  the  union  which 
formerly  existed  between  the  artist  and  the  mechanic,  in  Italy 
and  in  Greece,  that  their  metal,  and  leather,  and  woodwork, 
their  vases,  and  candlesticks,  and  lamps,  and  saddles,  &c, 
were  so  superior,  the  audience  cheered  me  heartily.  They  saw 
and  appreciated  the  value  of  the  principle.  Oh,  be  assured  my 
principles  will  take  root  in  the  understanding  of  intelligent 
men,  and  will  yet  save  old  England  from  being  eclipsed  by  her 
rivals  abroad.  I  may  not  live  to  see  it,  but  if  the  mechanics 
of  this  country  will  only  master  the  principles  of  art,  before 
fifty  years  are  over  we  shall  be  far  b  jyond  the  foreigner.  If 
they  do  not,  we  shall  be  as  far  below  him. 

From  W.  C.  Macready. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Cbvent  Garden  Theatre,  3rd  February,  1838. 

I  cannot  withhold  from  you  the  offer  of  my  best  thanks 
for  your  most  kind  and  valued  congratulations.*    Lauclari  a 

*  Although  Hayd..n  never  could  be  brought  to  admit  that  Macready  was  a 
great  actor,  he  cordially  sympathised  with  him  in  hi*  efforts  to  restore  a  taste  for 
the  poetical  drama.— Ld. 


40O 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


laudato  is  my  sole  ambition,  and  it  is  gratified  in  such  a  notice 
as  yours.  For  years  I  have  held  the  faith  that  Shakespeare, 
properly  illustrated,  would  give  the  lie  to  the  vile  and  indecent 
canters  about  public  taste.  I  am  borne  out  in  the  conviction 
I  have  maintained,  and  it  is  indeed  a  gratification  to  me  to  see 
the  taste  of  an  audience  vindicated  by  the  success  that  has 
attended  the  production  of  h's  plays  without  puff  or  preli- 
minary notices. 

I  shall  hope  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  on  your 
return,  and  with  many  thanks  am 

Truly  yours, 

W.  C.  Macready. 


From  Samuel  E.  Cottam. 

My  dear  Sir, 

I  have  the  pleasure  of  thanking  you,  in  the  name  of 
the  Directors,  for  your  kind  donation  of  casts  from  nature. 

They  are  the  first  of  that  kind  introduced  into  the  Institu- 
tion, and  I  hope  ere  long  we  shall  have  those  excellent  subjects 
you  lately  suggested,  a  goodly  group  of  youths  and  young  men 
drawing  from  the  figure,  learning  curves  from  the  figure,  and, 
whether  mechanic  or  artist,  acquiring  taste  and  correct  execu- 
tion from  the  figure.  Then  may  we  hope  for  a  reform  in  our 
designs. 

I  remain,  &c. 

Saml.  E.  Cottam. 


From  J.  Fraser,  of  Manchester. 

My  DEAR  HAYDON,  Manchester,  15th,  1838. 

The  battle  is  over  and  a  victory  gained ;  still  there  is 
a  deal  to  do,  no  matter  what  passed,  the  result  is  a  public 
meeting  for  the  promotion  of  a  School  of  Design,  in  the 
theatre  of  the  Koyal  Manchester  Institution,  on  Monday  next, 
the  19th. 

You  must  endeavour  to  be  with  us.    The  human  figure  was 


D.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


excluded  in  the  report !  I  managed,  however,  to  get  it  placed 
first  in  the  enumeration  of  objects  of  study. 

Yours  very  cordially, 

J.  W.  Fraseb. 

P.S. — Art  and  science  for  ever,  not  science  and  art ! 


From  William  Hamilton. 

DEAR  HaYDON,  Stanley  Grove,  1st  April,  1838. 

I  return  you  your  article  on  '  Painting,'  *  which  I  have 
read  with  much  pleasure  and  instruction,  and  I  am  glad  to 
see  it  is  to  be  finally  printed  in  a  volume.  .  .  .  The  opinions 
are  bold,  but,  I  doubt  not,  much  more  correct  and  more  true 
in  principle  than  the  thousand-times  repeated  namby-pamby 
observations  of  flatterers  of  great  names  with  which  all  our 
works  on  Art  are  saturated  with  a  vengeance,  and  the  whole 
article  is  well  calculated  to  rouse  the  feelings  of  those  who  feel 
at  all.  ...  If  you  could  procure  me  a  number  of  the  '  Encyclo- 
paedia Britannica '  I  should  like  to  buy  it,  and  read  the  article 
once  or  twice  over. 

Yours  ever, 

Wm.  Hamilton. 


To  Sir  George  Cockbtjrn,  G.C.B.,  on  the  Nelson  Monument 
Dear  Sir  George  Cockburn,  London,  9th  April,  1S38. 

A  monument  to  Nelson's  glory  should  not,  in  my  humble 
opinion,  be  the  ordinary  one  of  Neptune,  Fame,  and  Victory, 
cannons  and  shot,  cables,  anchors  and  ship's  prows,  &c.  &c,  but 
a  Temple;  inside  a  statue,  simple  and  solitary,  and  on  the 
pedestal  I  would  put 

"  Nelson. 
"  A  little  body  with  a  mighty  heart." 

The  four  sides  of  the  four  walls  should  be  painted  with 


*  Printed  in  the  '  Encyclopaedia  Britannica.'  -  Ed. 

vol.  i.  2d 


403  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

four  of  the  most  striking  events  in  his  glorious  career.  For 
example : — 

1.  deceiving  the  swords  of  the  Spanish  officers  on  the 

quarter-deck  of  the  '  San  Josef.' 

2.  The  battle  of  the  Nile. 

3.  Signing  and  reading  the  letter  to  the  Crown  Prince 

at  Copenhagen. 

4.  Trafalgar  and  death. 

Tf  you  think  this  suggestion  worth  the  attention  of  the  com- 
mittee, perhaps  you  will  do  me  the  honour  to  lay  the  proposition 
before  them. 

I  am,  dear  Sir  George, 

Your  faithful  servant, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

To  Lord  Melbourne. 

London,  8th  May,  1838. 
Yes,  my  dear  Lord,  I  congratulate  you  on  the  admirable 
pendant  to  my  '  Banquet,'  by  Wilkie.  Is  this  like  you  ?  Though 
I  did  not  show  your  fine  eye,  did  I  not  do  justice  to  the  profile  ? 
Lid  you  not  say  it  was  "  excellent  "  ?  Did  not  Lord  Lansdowne 
say  "  it  is  a  handsome  likeness  "  ?  Was  not  everybody  pleased  ? 
and  did  you  not  all  run  away  directly  the  Royal  Academicians 
abused  it  ? 

On  the  morning  of  the  battle  of  Culloden,  one  Highlander 
was  overheard  to  say  to  his  next  man,  "  Weel,  God  stond  by 
the  right."  "  Na,  na,"  said  his  next  man,  "  God  stawnd  by 
Hawmilton's  reaiment,  right  or  wrang." 

Your  Lordship  and  all  of  you  should  have  stood  by  "  Haw- 
milton's regiment,  right  or  wrang,"  as  Hawmilton's  regiment 
stood  by  you. 

However,  I  am  glad  to  see  you  have  stood  long  enough  to 
make  the  deity  of  caution  paint  you  all.  By  the  Lord !  that 
says  more  for  the  security  of  your  administration  than  a  majority 
in  the  House. 

Of  Hayter's  '  Queen '  nothing  can  be  said ;  it  is  the  negation 
of  every  excellence  which  characterises  High  Art.  Her  ^Majesty's 
affections  must  be  strong ;  she  has  forgotten  nobody  who  had 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


4©3 


her  attention  in  her  seclusion,  clown  to  Fozard,  her  stirrup- 
holder,  and  she  has  remembered  every  oneivho  did  net.  It  is  to 
be  regretted  that  the  genius  displayed  so  far  is  not  quite  equiva- 
lent to  the  warmth  of  heart  which  stimulated  its  employment. 
Another  proof — if  one  were  wanted — that  the  higher  patronage 
does  not,  cannot  create  genius. 

Ever,  dear  Lord,  yours, 

B.  E.  Haydon. 

From  Southey. 

DEAR  SlR,  Lymington,  25th  October,  1838. 

Upon  the  subject  of  your  letter  (design  for  Nelson's 
monument),  wishing  you  all  possible  success  in  the  undertaking, 
I  can  only  express  what  perhaps  you  may  think  me  prejudiced 
in  maintaining,  viz.,  a  great  dislike  to  a'legory,  either  in  painting 
or  sculpture.  '  Britannia '  is  to  me  an  abomination,  though  no 
one  more  heartily  wishes  that  Britain  may  continue  to  rule  the 
waves.  Setting  allegory  aside,  your  conceptions  appear  such 
as  I  might  expect  from  you,  and  the  design  is  worthy  of  you. 

Believe  me,  &c, 

Robert  Southey. 

To  his  Wife. 

Leeds,  3rd  November.  1838. 

I  dined  at  Dr.  Hook's  last  night  with  a  large  party.  Two 
of  the  sons  of  Sir  John  Sinclair  were  present.  I  asked  the 
elder  if  he  was  the  one  Buonaparte  had  detained  in  Prussia  in 
1806.  It  was  his  brother,  then  only  a  boy  of  sixteen.  He  was 
travelling  from  Berlin,  and  came  into  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
French  armies,  was  captured  by  the  patrols,  and  brought  a 
prisoner  to  headquarters.  He  was  then  brought  before  Na- 
poleon. Buonaparte  was  in  his  tent,  with  a  large  map  on  the 
table,  and  Berthier  was  with  him.  He  looked  up  fiercely  at 
Sinclair,  and  asked  him  where  he  had  come  from,  and  where  he 
was  going  ?  Sinclair  replied  that  his  father  had  sent  him  to 
travel ;  and  described  his  journeys.  Napoleon  sent  for  one  of 
his  suite  who  understood  English,  and  ordered  him  to  read 

2  D  2 


4Q4  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

Sinclair's  letter.?.  The  aide-de-camp  read  the  letters,  and  told 
the  Emperor  that  they  confirmed  the  boy's  statement.  Napoleon 
then  asked  him  about  his  studies,  and  how  far  he  had  got  on 
in  Greek.  Sinclair  said  that  he  was  then  reading  '  Thucydides.' 
Napoleon  said,  "  Bravo !  now  you  must  stay  here  until  some- 
thing decisive  has  taken  place ;"  and  in  a  day  or  two  after  the 
battles  of  Auerstadt  and  Jena  were  fought  and  won,  and  the  boy 
was  allowed  to  continue  his  journey.  As  I  remembered  the 
incident  being  related  in  180  j-7,  it  was  satisfactory  to  have  it 
confirmed  by  Sinclair's  own  brother.* 

*  Mr.,  afterwards  Sir  George  Sinclair,  was  travelling  with  a  companion,  Mr. 
Kegel,  from  Gotha  to  Leipsio,  and  the  Piussians  being  ill  informed  of  the  road< 
by  which  the  French  were  advancing,  told  h  m  he  was  quite  safe  to  go  by  w  y 
of  Gleina  and  Kostritz,  where  the  French  outposts  captured  him,  carried  him  to 
Mnrnt.  who  sent  him  on  to  the  Emperor.  It  is  curious  to  find  by  Mr.  Sinclair's 
account  that  alt.iough  this  was  only  a  few  da\  s  before  th:  battle  of  J\  na,  Napoleon 
did  not  know  where  Jena  was  on  the  map,  an  I  could  not  find  it.  But  tais  was 
a  trifle  compared  to  the  blunder  of  the  Prussians,  who  did  not  know  wl  ere 
Napoleon  was.  Sir  George  Sinclair's  account  is  so  interesting  it  is  worth  quoting. 
When  brought  to  the  Emperor's  tent,  Count  Frohberg  opened  the  door,  s  lying, 
"  Voil.i,  Sire,  le  jeune  Angla  s  dont  je  viens  do  parlor  a  votie  Majeste'. '  The  door 
closed,  Mr.  Sin  "la'r  made  a  low  bow,  and  on  raising  his  eyes  saw  a  little  figure 
arraved  in  a  white  nght-cap  and  dressing-gown  ;  an  officer  in  uniform,  Marshal 
lierthier,  the  Minister  at  War,  standing  by  his  side.  "The  Emperor  stood  still 
with  his  arms  crossed,  and  a  cup  of  colfee  in  his  right  hand  :  he  surveyed  mo 
attentively,  and  said  'Qui  etes-vous?'  My  reply  was,  'Sire,  je  suis  sujet  de 
S.  M.  Bri.anniqne.'  4  D'oii  venez-vous?'  'Sire,  je  viens  dc  Gotha  en  Saxe; 
et  en  me  remlant  de  \h  a  Leipzig,  j'ai  e'te  arrele'  par  quelques  soldats  des  avant- 
jiostes,  qui  m'ont  mene'  a  Geia  ehez  le  Grand-Duo  de  Berg ;  et  S.  A.  m'a  envoye 
ici  pour  avoir  riionneur  d'eae  examine  par  V.  M  '  '  Par  oil  etes-vous  passe  ? ' 
'  Sire,  je  suis  pa-se'  par  Wiimar,  Erfurt,  et  Jena,  d'oii  n'ayant  pas  pu  pro-uier 

des  clievaux  p  aur  nous  ennduire  plus  loin  que  ju-qu'a  Gleina  '    M)u  est 

Gleina?  et  qu'est-ce  quo  e'est ?'  4  Gleiua,  Sire,  est  un  petit  village  appartenaut 
au  Due  de  Gotha.' 

44  Upon  hearing  that  I  had  passed  through  these  places,  he  paused  and  t'.eti 
said,  '  Tracez-moi  le  plan  de  votre  route.'  He  then  sat  down  at  a  table,  o  i 
which  a  map  of  Germany  was  spread.  .  .  .  and  leaning  his  face  upon  his  thumb 
an  I  forefinger  looked  me  full  in  the  face,  and  said,  'Quel  jour  etes-vous  parti  da 
Gotha?'  At  taat  moment  I  had  forgotten  the  exact  day  of  our  departure;  I 
began  to  calculate.  This  pause,  though  but  a  sho.t  one,  excited  the  Emperor's 
impatience.  4Je  vous  demande,  quel  jour  etes-vous  parti  de  Gotha?'  H.s 
abrupt  manner,  and  a  significant  look,  which  I  saw  him  exchange  wiih  Bert'de  , 
would  have  very  much  interrupted  my  calculation,  had  I  not  concluded  it,  and 
i  amed  the  exact  day  of  our  departure.  He  then  1  ioked  for  Goiha  in  the  map, 
ami  asked  me  a  number  of  questions  as  to  the  strength  of  the  Prussians  in  that 
place,  lhe  reports  prevalent  in  regard  to  their  probable  movements,  &c.  He  next 
bsnght  out  Erfurt,  and  inquired  whether  I  had  observed  any  troops  in  motion 
oetweeu  the  two  places?  He  was  very  minute  in  his  interrogatories  with  rcgird 
to  Erfurt.  He  asked  how  strong  the  girrison  was  there?  I  replied,  that  this 
was  a  point  whi  h  I  bad  not  had  any  opportunity  of  ascertaining.  He  asked  me 
if  I  bad  been  at  the  parade?  I  replied  in  the  affirmative.  '  How  many  regi- 
ments were  pre  ent?'  4  Siro,  I  cannot  tell;  the  Duke  of  Brunswick  was  then 
at  Erfurt,  and  there  seemed  to  be  almost  as  many  officers  as  soldiers  assembled 
on  tb^  parade.'  '  Is  Erfurt  a  well-fortified  town?'  4  Sire,  1  know  very  little 
about  the  strength  of  t'ortili.  atioas.'    4  Y  a-t-il  un  chateau  a  Erfurt?'  Upon 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


At  Manchester  last  week  they  told  me  that  Chantrey,  Wilkie, 
and  Shee  had  been  there,  and  that  Chantrey  grumbled  at  the 
School  of  Design ;  but  they  told  nie  their  influence  was  gone. 
The  School  is  getting  on  pretty  well.  I  am  to  make  a  report 
to  the  Committee.  It  is  infinitely  better  than  it  was,  but  on 
my  second  visit  I  had  to  find  fault. 

this  pnint  I  felt  some  doubts;  but  was  afraid  to  plead  ignorance  again,  Ifst  lie 
should  imagine  that  it  was  feigned.  I  therefore  boldly  said,  '  Oui,  Sire,  il  y  a 
im  chateau.'  After  inquiring  whether  I  had  ma  le  any  observations  on  the  mad 
1  etwe.  n  Erfurt  and  Weimar,  he  proee,  ded  to  question  me  minutely  as  to  the 
6tate  of  tlie  latter  place,  the  number  of  troops  quartered  there,  the  destination  of 
the  Oiand  Duke,  &c. 

"  On  my  mentioning  that  Jena  was  the  next  place  at  which  we  stopped,  Napoleon 
did  not  immediately  discover  its  exact  sit uai ion  on  the  map.  I,  therefore,  had 
to  point  to  it  with  my  fing°r,  and  show  hira  the  place  at  which  he  so  soon 
afterwards  achieved  to  brilliant  anil  decisive  a  victory.  He  inquired  who  com- 
manded at  Jena,  what  was  the  state  of  the  town,  whether  I  knew  any  particulars 
ab  ut  the  garrison,  &c. ;  and  then  made  similar  inquiries  with  regard  to  Gleina 
and  the  intervi  ning  road. 

"  Having  followed  up  the  invest:gation  until  the  moment  when  we  were  arrested, 
he  paused,  and  looked  at  me  very  earnestly.  'Comment!'  said  le,  '  voulez- 
vous  que  je  croie  tout  ce  que  vous  dites?  Les  Anglais  ne  voyagent  pas  ordi- 
naiiement  a  pi  d  sans  doniestiqne,  et  eomme  cela'  (looking  at  my  dress,  which 
cons'sted  in  an  old  box-coat  of  rough  and  dark  materials,  which  I  had  for  some 
time  previously  only  worn  as  a  cover  r"imd  my  legs,  when  travelling  in  a  carriage, 
but,  which  I  had  been  glad  to  resume  as  an  article  of  dress,  over  my  other  clothes, 
when  obliged  to  travel  on  foot).  '  II  est  vrai,  Sire.'  I  replied,  'que  tela  peut 
paraitre  un  peu  singulier,  mais  des  circonslances  imperieuses,  et  l'impossibiliie 
<le  ti ouver  des  ehevaux,  nous  ont  obliges  a  cettc  de'marche  ;  d'ailleurs,  je  crois  que 
j'ai  dans  ma  poche  des  lettres  qui  prouveront  la  ve'rite  de  tout  ee  que  j'ai  d.t  au 
bujet  de  moi-meme.' 

'"  1  then  drew  out  of  the  pocket  of  the  old  box-coat  some  letters.  When  I  laid 
the.-e  upon  the  table,  Napoleon  pushed  them  quickly  towards  Count  Frohberg, 
nodding  to  him  ra;>idly  with  his  head.  The  Count  immediately  took  up  the 
letters,  and  said  to  the  Emperor,  whilst  opening  them.  that,  from  having  examined 
and  convcr.-ed  with  me  during  our  journey,  he  thought  he  could  be  responsible 
for  the  truth  of  everything  I  had  said. 

"After  cursorily  glancing  through  some  of  the  papers,  he  said,  'These  letters 
are  of  no  consequence,  and  quite  of  a  private  nature ;  for  instance,  here  is  one  from 
Mr.  Sinclair's  f.,th.  r,  in  which,  after  reminding  him  of  the  attention  he  had  paid 
to  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages  in  1  ngland,  he  expre-ses  a  hope  that  the  same 
care  will  be  bestowed  upon  the  acquisition  of  the  French  and  German  abroad.' 

"  Napoleon  s  features  here  relaxed  into  a  smile;  and  I  never  can  forgot  the 
kindness  with  which  he  ey>  d  me,  whilst  he  said, '  Vous  avez  done  appiia  le  Grec 
et  le  Latin  ;  quels  auteurs  avez-vous  lus?  ' 

"I  mentioned  Homer,  Thucvdi  'es,  Cicero,  and  Horace;  upon  which  he  replied, 
'C'est  fort  bien,  e'est  fort  bieu;'  and  then  turning  to  Berthier,  he  added,  '  Je 
ne  crois  pas  que  ce  jeune  homme  soit  espion  ;  ma  is  l'autre  qui  est  avec  lui,  le 
s  ra,  et  aura  amene'  ce  jeune  homme  avec  lui  pour  etre  moins  suspect'  He  then 
made  a  slight  inclination  of  the  he  ad,  as  a  signal  for  me  to  retire  ;  upon  which  I 
bowed  profoundly,  and  p  issed  intotne  ante-chamber;  after  which  Mr.  Kegel  was 
introduced."— Pp.  30,  31,  32,  33,  M4. 

Mr.  Kegel  was  severely  examined  by  the  Emperor  and  minutely  questioned. 
Upon  the  good  pastor  remarking  that  he  had  believed  t  ie  French  were  quite  in 
another  direction,  and  that  was  also  the  be.ief  of  the  Duke  of  Brunswick  and  his 
staff,  Napoleon  smiled  to  himself,  saying,  "Ce  sont  des  perruques.  lis  se  sont 
lurieiiaement  trompes."    {See  Sir  George  Sinclair's  '  Memoir.')  —Ed. 


4' 6 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  T.  Moore. 

My  DE\R  SlR,  Sloperton,  10th  May,  1838. 

Of  any  communication  from  you  I  am  most  ready  to  say 
"  better  late  than  never."  It  was  exceedingly  kind  of  you  to 
take  so  much  trouble  for  me,  in  the  first  instance,  and  not  at 
all  surprising  that  you  should  forget  it  all  afterwards.  As  to 
Sheridan,  I  have  really  almost  forgot  everything  about  him 
myself;  so  many  other  and  different  subjects  have  since 
occupied  my  thoughts ;  as  somebody  says  of  the  waves  of  the 
sea — 

"  And  one  no  sooner  kissed  the  shore  and  died, 
Than  a  new  follower  rose." 

Even  so  it  has  been  with  my  works.  The  dying,  I  fear, 
included. 

Trusting  I  may  be  more  lucky  in  meriting  than  I  have  been 
now,  I  am  sorry  to  say, 

I  am  very  truly  yours, 

Thomas  Moore. 


From  Sir  G&opge  Cockburn. 

DEAR  SlR,  Leamington,  18th  October,  1838. 

I  have  always  understood  Lord  Nelson  was  mortally 
wounded  on  the  quarter-deck  of  the  '  Victory,'  and  not  on  the 
poop ;  but  if  you  are  desirous  to  obtain  more  positive  informa- 
tion on  this  point,  I  have  no  doubt  Sir  Thomas  Hardy,  who 
is  now  Governor  of  Greenwich  Hospital,  and  who  was  Lord 
Nelson's  Captain  at  the  time,  will  answer  the  question  as  best 
authority,  if  you  apply  to  him. 

As  regards  you  and  the  question,  I  am  not  sure  where  Lord 
Nelson  wrote  his  letter  to  the  Crown  Prince ;  whether  a  table 
and  paper  were  brought  to  him  on  purpose  on  one  of  the  gun- 
decks,  or  whether  he  went  to  the  orlop  or  cockpit  (where  alone 
such  materials  were  deposited  when  the  ship  was  cleared  for 
action),  I  cannot  affirm,  but  my  impression  is  the  latter  was 
the  case.  Mr.  Scott,  of  22,  New  Bridge  Street,  who  is  the  son 
of  Lord  Nelson's  then  Secretary,  might  perhaps  be  able  to 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


407 


give  you  more  minute  information  from  his  father's  papers.  I 
hope  you  are  in  the  enjoyment  of  good  health,  and 

Kemain,  dear  Sir,  your  very  faithful  servant, 

George  Cockburn. 

From  Sir  Thomas  Hardy. 

Greenwich  Hospital,  7th  November,  1838: 

Sir  Thomas  Hardy  presents  his  compliments  to  Mr.  Hay- 
don,  and  begs  to  inform  him  that  Admiral  Lord  Nelson  was 
mortally  wounded  on  the  quarter-deck  of  the  '  Victory '  at  the 
battle  of  Trafalgar,  and  died  in  the  cockpit. 

His  Lordship  wrote  the  letter  to  the  Crown  Prince  at  the 
battle  of  Copenhagen  in  his  Lordship's  cabin  on  board  the 
'  Elephant '  in  the  heat  of  the  battle,  and  sent  to  the  cockpit 
for  a  lighted  candle,  in  order  that  he  might  seal  it  with  his 
arms. 

From  Sir  Thomas  Hardy. 

Greenwich  Hospital,  13th  November. 

I  was  not  on  board  the  '  Elephant '  at  the  time  Lord 
Nelson  wrote  the  letter.  Captain  Foley  commanded  that  ship, 
to  which  the  Admiral  had  shifted  his  flag  from  the  '  Prince 
George '  (his  proper  flag-ship,  of  which  I  was  the  Captain),  as 
the  '  Elephant '  drew  less  water,  and  could  approach  nearer  to 
the  enemy.* 

I  remain, 

T.  M.  Hardy. 

To  Ms  Wife. 

Liverpool,  20th  November,  1838. 

....  I  have  just  been  over  the  Mechanics'  Schools  here. 
There  are  seven  hundred  boys  being  instructed,  six  hours  a-day, 
an  hour  a-day  on  six  different  subjects.  I  object  strongly  to 
this,  for  I  will  defy  them  to  retain  anything  effectually,  and 
one-half  of  the  boys  will  probably  end  with  disease  of  the  brain. 

*  These  letters  show  what  immense  trouble  Haydon  took  to  get  at  the  facts  of 
any  picture  he  was  painting  from  the  best  authorities. — Ed. 


4oS 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


This  is  some  of  the  new-fangled  trash  of  the  theorists  on  educa- 
tion— the  idealogues,  as  Buonaparte  used  to  call  them.  After 
the  boys  were  gone  I  discussed  the  subject  with  the  classical 
master,  a  Trinity  man,  and  he  agreed  with  me  that  no  boy 
could  become  a  classical  scholar  under  such  a  system.  I  object 
to  all  these  exceedingly  refined  theories  in  education,  which 
are  gradually  coming  to  the  front.  I  believe  the  effect  will  be 
to  render  the  next  generation  active  in  mind,  but  not  steady- 
minded.  They  will  get  tired  over  a  long  investigation,  and 
fly  off  to  ten  thousand  other  things. 

As  an  institution,  of  course  it  is  very  magnificent,  but  I  dis- 
trust the  system.  I'll  bet  my  existence  the  rising  generation 
will  be  coxcombical  smatterers.  They  must  be  under  such  a 
system.  I  find  no  provision  for  moral  or  religious  instruction. 
That,  of  course,  belongs  to  seels.  That  is  prejudice.  "  Thou 
shalt  not  commit  adultery"  is  only  a  civil  crime  in  the  new 
cant,  and  marriage  is  no  longer  a  religious  act.  We  shall  see. 
No  boy  of  mine  shall  ever  be  taught  after  this  fashion.  They 
would  not  have  been  worth  a  straw  if  they  had  been,  whereas 
now  either  of  them  would  puzzle  the  masters  here.  When  will 
people  learn  to  let  Nature  alone  ?  This  coming  age  will  be  a 
restless,  petty,  theoretical,  inquisitive,  pestering  age.  The  age 
of  fidget,  hurry,  and  restlessness,  but  not  deep — no,  nor  think- 
ing.   Neither  grand  in  Art  nor  elevated  in  imagination. 

B.  R.  H. 

From  Lord  Francis  Egerton. 

Warley,  14  th  December,  1838. 

I  hear  from  Liverpool  that  you  are  engaged  in  an  under- 
taking there  that  I  think  you  will  like.*  1  hope  whoever 
superintends  the  affair  will  let  you  have  your  own  way  as  to 
the  treatment.  I  have  told  the  Secretary  to  put  my  name 
down  as  a  subscriber  for  any  sum  subscribed  by  the  principal 
people  there,  as  to  give  more  would  look  political  on  my  part 

in  that  very  political  quarter  I  have  sometimes  thought 

of  the  subject  of  the  Duke  of  ^'ellington,  but  never  could  hit 
on  any  individual  incident  which  would  specially  attract  me  if 

*  The  historical  picture  of  the  '  Duke  of  Wellington,'  subscribed  for  by  the 
gentlenn  n  ot'  Liverpool. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


409 


I  were  a  painter.  In  person  he  is  to  my  fancy  more  picturesque 
now  than  he  ever  was. 

The  mere  portrait  with  a  prancing  horse  or  a  red  curtain 
woulJ  give  me  low  spirits  if  I  had  to  do  it. 

Believe  me  yours, 

Francis  Egertcn. 

From  Lord  Francis  Egerton. 

Wirley,  17th  December. 

It  seems  to  me  your  notion  Of  the  Duke  surveying  the 
field  of  Waterloo  twenty  years  after  the  battle  is  admirable. 
The  victor  on  the  field  would  be  a  very  good  subject  for  a 
picture  of  mighty  detail  and  costume  in  the  present  style,  but 
between  such  a  picture  and  the  sentiment  of  the  other  there 
would  be  something  like  the  difference  between  Wouvi  rm  inn's 
and  any  great  painter  of  the  Italian  school. 

You  will  find  a  difficulty  in  getting  sittings  from  the  Duke, 
a  difficulty  which  you  share  with  Sir  Francis  Chantrey,  who,  I 
know,  has  failed  in  getting  sittings  for  a  bust  bespoke  by  the 
Oxford  people  long  before  his  installation.  Perhaps  the  House 
of  Lords  would  relieve  you  of  a  part  of  this. 

There  is,  unfortunately,  no  good  picture  of  Copenhagen. 
Lord  Fitzroy  Somerset  has,  I  rather  think,  a  bad  portrait  of 
him,  from  which  Cockerell's  bronze  was  taken,  but  he  will 
complain  of  that  as  a  likeness. 

Lawrence's,  in  my  opinion,  is  too  bad  to  give  you  much 
assistance.  Copenhagen  was  a  picturesque  little  horse.  The 
]  )uke  rode  him  sixteen  hours,  and,  when  he  dismounted,  nar- 
rowly escaped  a  kick,  which  might  have  been  fatal,  from  the 
spirited  animal. 

I  remain,  &c, 

F.  Egeuton. 

From  Thomas  Winstanlet. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Liverpool,  15th  December,  1838. 

Many  thanks  for  your  permission  to  attend  your  Lecture 
on  Academies.  It  has  strengthened  my  opinion  on  the  subject, 
for  the  historical  detail  of  facts  in  support  of  your  prin- 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


ciples  is,  in  my  opinion,  irresistibly  strong.  Wherever  you 
are  enabled  to  lay  these  facts  before  the  public,  the  public 
must  be  awakened,  and  the  result  will  be  a  "  School  of 
Design." 

I  cannot  hope  to  see  this  glorious  reformation  of  opinion  in 
favour  of  the  Arts ;  but  that  you  may,  and  that  you  may  enjoy 
the  reward  of  your  labours  and  perseverance  is  the  very  sincere 
wish  of 

Your  friend  and  faithful  servant, 

Thomas  Winstanley. 

To  his  Wife. 

29th  April,  1839. 

....  The  tiresome  habits  of  people  in  the  country 
would  drive  me  stark  mad  in  six  months.  I'll  just  give  you  an 
instance  of  Lancashire.  Here  at  Warrington,  on  arriving  this 
evening,  I  asked  a  man,  "Is  this  the  way  to  the  Eed  Lion?" 
He  repeats  my  words,  "  Is  this  the  way  to  the  Bed  Lion?" 
dropping  his  head  on  his  breast,  and  as  if  lost  in  thought  at 
the  profundity  of  the  question.  "  Is  this  the  way  to  the  Eed 
Lion?"  he  said  again,  looking  up  and  smiling  in  my  face  at 
his  own  sagacity  that  an  idea  had  reached  him  at  last.  "  Wale, 
I  just  think  it  may  be ;  but,  stop,  I'll  inquire."  This  was  too 
much  for  me,  and  I  darted  into  a  shop.  "  Is  this  the  way 
to  the  Eed  Lion?"  I  said  fiercely  to  the  man  behind  the 
counter.  "  Wale,"  he  replied,  "  the  Eed  Lion  ?  ar't  sure  it 
t'aint  tbe  Nag's  Head."  "  God  forbid  !"  I  cried  in  my  agony  ; 
"  I  don't  know."  "  Not  know,"  said  he  ;  "  may  be,  then,  it  is 
the  Eed  Lion  you  want,  and  that  is  the  way ;  though,  stop,"  he 
said,  "  up  by  the  market's  the  nearest ;  that  is,  I  think  it  be ; 
but  Mr.  Thomas,  the  printer,  knows  wale,  and  his  house  is  the 
first  after  you've  passed  the  corner.  But,  stop  a  minute,  and 
I'll  just  go  myself  and  ask."  The  intellect  of  Warrington  has 
evidently  not  got  sufficient  employment. 

B.  E.  H. 

To  Lord  Melbourne. 

My  DEAR  LORD,  Warrington,  2nd  May,  1839. 

1  have  met  with  the  most  glorious  success  J\ly  last 
lecture  at  Newcastle  was  hailed  with  cheers  and  acclamations. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON, 


411 


I  then  went  to  Hull,  where  it  ended  in  the  same  satisfactory 
manner.  At  Newcastle  a  School  of  Design  is  formed.  I  began 
one  at  Hull,  and  now  I  am  here,  and  my  reception  as  usual. 

Be  assured  the  people  are  alive  to  sound  Art,  and  only  want 
instruction.  My  three  first  lectures  tire  wholly  upon  the  con- 
struction of  the  figure,  and  are  yet  listened  to  with  an  attention 
the  Greeks  could  not  exceed. 

I  write  you  this  that  your  Lordship  may  be  kept  au  fait  as 
to  what  is  going  on  in  the  country  towns.  Be  careful,  my  dear 
Lord,  what  you  say  at  the  Academy  dinner,  that  interesting 
entertainment  founded  to  reflect  honour  on  the  Art,  but  made 
a  means  to  get  business  for  the  monopoly. 
Ever,  my  dear  Lord, 

Your  grateful  and  obliged  servant, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

To  his  Wife. 

Manchester,  May  1839. 

....  At  first  I  could  not  bear  the  sight  of  the  huge 
factories  in  this  place.  They  looked  like  so  many  vast  mill- 
prisons,  with  the  eternal  hum  of  forced  labour  sounding  in  your 
ears.  The  only  sign  of  life,  it  was  a  relief  to  see,  was  the  smoke 
pouring  out  of  the  chimneys.  But  I  am  assured  the  work- 
people are  not  harshly  treated.  I  doubt  the  wisdom  of 
allowing  delicate  women,  and  young  girls  and  children,  to  be 
employed  for  so  many  hours  daily  in  heated  work-rooms.  Of 
course,  they  are  employed  because  their  labour  is  cheaper  than 
that  of  men.  But  1  think  it  an  evil,  and,  if  pursued,  must  tell 
seriously  on  future  generations.  The  race  will  deteriorate.  The 
day  may  yet  come  when  we  shall  want  the  bone  and  muscle 
that  has  made  England  great,  to  keep  her  so.  But  unfortu- 
nately, although  we  are  in  the  habit  of  boasting  so  much  about 
our  Habeas  Corpus  and  our  liberties,  we  allow  many  serious 
evils  to  exist  that  strike  at  the  roots  of  our  very  existence  as  a 
nation.  In  England  an  immense  accumulation  of  wrong  is 
necessary  before  you  can  overcome  John  Bull's  national 
inclination  to  leave  alone  things  that  do  not  affect  his  belly  or 
his  pocket,  and  to  resist  every  change  that  does.  Here,  a  y 
limit  upon  labour  means  fresh  expenditure  by  employers,  and 


412 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


so  they  resist  it ;  and  a  loss  to  the  working  man's  weekly  gains, 
and  so  they  resist  it.  .But  there  can  be  no  doubt,  if  the  present 
system  continues,  the  next  five-and-twenty  years  will  show 
decreased  statures,  diminished  physical  powers,  and  a  gradual 
failing  in  the  manufacturing  populations.  That  is  my  opinion. 
J  am  told  that  in  the  pottery  districts  in  Staffordshire  the 
entire  populations  are  renewed  every  five  or  ten  years  by  fresh 
blood  from  the  country  districts.  These  things  ought  to  be 
carefully  looked  into,  for  they  point  to  serious  results.  .  .  . 

B.  It  II. 

To  Lord  Melbourne. 

My  DEAR  LORD,  London,  7th  July,  1839. 

The  affairs  of  the  East  may  be  getting  serious,  and 
France  may  be  creeping  into  her  former  preponderance,  which 
may  and  will  requite  another  war  to  reduce  and  divide;  but 
consider  what  the  state  of  Europe  will  certainly  be  if  the 
President  of  the  Eoyal  Academy  is  permitted  to  rule  un- 
checked and  unmolested  ;  if  the  purest  despotism  in  Europe  be 
not  reduced  to  constitutional  law  ;  and  if  the  great  question  of 
whether  the  Eoyal  Academy  be  a  private  or  public  body,  be 
not  cleared  up  by  some  modern  Puffendorf  or  Yattel  of 
palette  and  paint  ? 

Fruitless  inquiries,  my  dear  Lord,  if  not  followed  by  castiga- 
tion  or  reform,  generally  end  by  strengthening  the  vices  they 
were  meaned  to  correct. 

Here  are  men  who  unblushingly  talk  of  the  unsullied  purity 
with  which  they  marched  off  irom  the  Parliamentary  furnace 
that  was  heated  to  disinfect  them  of  all  impurities,  when  by 
their  own  returns  it  appears  that  in  seventy  years  they  have 
spent  19,750Z.  in  dinners,  and  but  4,-r;8u7.  in  sending  fifteen 
students  to  Pome,  and  in  that  time  have  never  founded  one 
single  school  of  design. 

If  this  be  their  "  unsullied  purity,"  what  must  be  their 
imperfections  ? 

Permit  me  to  ask  you  what  has  been  g  lined  for  the  Art  by 
the  Parliamentary  investigation  into  the  Academy  which  you 
granted  ?  Have  you  not,  in  the  very  teeth  of  the  evidence, 
installed  them  in  the  National  Gallery,  a  Gallery  built  and 
planned  for  a  great  public  purpose  ?  and  have  you  not  doubled 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


4>3 


their  means  and  increased  their  ability  to  defy  the  people  and 
trample  on  the  Art  ? 

All  I  ask  of  the  Government  is,  are  they  a  private  or  a 
public  body?  If  private,  let  them  keep  strictly  within  the 
limits  of  private  rights.  If  public,  let  them  not  be  exempted 
from  that  necessary  audit  and  control  the  Government,  as 
representatives  of  public  power  and  the  public  purse,  have  a 
right  to  exercise.  But  do  not  permit  or  connive  at  tin  ir 
claiming  the  right  to  keep  their  transactions  secret  under  the 
inviolability  of  private  law  when  reform  approaches,  but  never- 
theless pushing  forward  to  share  a  public  advantage  from 
which  their  character  and  claim,  if  sincere,  as  a  private  asso- 
ciation must  wholly  exclude  them  when  the  Treasury  door 
opens. 

Believe  me,  dear  Lord  Melbourne,  I  have  not  relinquished  the 
contest.  I  am  only  carrying  my  arms.  Let  me  re-assure  you 
also  on  another  point.  I  have  no  personal  resentment  to  gratify. 
I  want  settlement,  not  movement.  I  am  not  one  of  those  whose 
consequence  will  be  lost  by  tranquillity.  It  would  probably  be 
increased ;  but  I  am  actuated  solely  and  wholly  by  a  sincere 
desire  to  relieve  the  Art  from  its  present  anomalous  condition, 
and  that  only  can  be  done  by  obliging  the  Eoyal  Academy  to 
rise  up  to  the  feeling  of  the  time. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Lord, 

Ever  your  grateful  servant, 

B.  E.  Hatdon. 

From  Lord  Francis  Egerton. 

Warley,  31st  August,  1839. 

I  am  happy  to  hear  of  your  feelings  of  success  with 
your  noble  subject.  I  speak  against  all  rule  and  practice  ;  but  I 
cannot  help  thinking  that  a  real  designer  must  do  better  by 
such  casual  sketches  (as  yours  after  the  Duke)  than  when  he  gets 
his  subject  into  a  chair,  with  a  made-up  face  and  a  regulation 
window,  darkened  below,  and  an  orthodox  patch  of  shadow 
under  the  nose. 

"  Ancn'  io  son  pittore,"  i.e.,  I  am  always  making  scrawls  of 
my  children,  and  I  have  never  yet  succeeded  in  getting  from 
them  the  similitudo  of  anything  human  when  they  were  oi.ee 


414 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


aware  what  I  was  at.  At  other  times,  I  sometimes  consider 
myself  an  IB.,  and  moan  over  the  idleness  of  my  youth  in 
not  having  studied  the  figure  from  the  skeletons  of  Albinus  to 
the  Elgin  Marbles.  It  seems  to  me  that  our  painters  go  to 
work  as  people  might  who,  feeling  an  inclination  towards  the 
study  of  astronomy,  should  attempt  it  without  a  knowledge  of 
arithmetic. 

I  should  be  curious  to  see  or  know  the  real  history  of  the 
"  Catalogue  Eaisonne,"  to  which  your  pamphlet  refers.  It 
w  as  before  my  time,  and  I  never  saw  it. 

I  should  be  glad  to  make  up  my  mind  as  to  the  question  of 
the  Royal  Academy  as  part  of  the  general  one  of  the  best 

mode  of  propagating  the  arts  of  design  in  this  country  

Don't  expect  me,  however,  to  join  the  ranks  on  either  side  in 
the  "bella  plus  quam  civilia  "  which  are  raging. 

Your  principle  that  all  improvement  must  be  founded  on  the 
knowledge  of  the  figure  is,  bei/ond  question,  the  true  one. 

I  once  consulted  Denon  for  a  drawing-master  in  landscape. 
"Do  you  draw  the  figure?"  he  asked.  I  said  that  I  had 
"  never  attempted  anything  else,"  upon  which  he  consented  to 
recommend  me  the  article  I  wanted. 

I  will  take  the  earliest  opportunity  I  can  of  seeing  your 
work. 

I  remain,  &c. 

F.  Egerton. 

From  the  Duke  of  Bedford* 

27th  September,  1839. 

I  have  received  your  letter  of  the  23rd,  and  have  much 
pleasure  in  sending  you  a  cheque  on  my  bankers  for  two  addi- 
tional chances  in  the  raffle  for  the  '  Maid  of  Saragossa.' 

I  have  received,  since  I  have  been  here,  a  copy  of  your 
pamphlet  on  '  Academies  of  Art.'  I  read  a  part  of  it  with 
much  pleasure,  as  it  proved  your  enthusiasm  for  the  Arts,  but 
there  are  other  parts  of  which  I  cannot  speak  so  favourably,  as 
I  think  you  write  with  unmeasured  severity  of  the  Royal 
Academy. 

I  was  glad  to  see  that  you  spoke  well  of  the  conduct  of  the 

*  This  w.ta  tho  list  letter  received  from  this  srenerous  friend  of  artists.  The 
Duke  tV  11  ill  and  died  within  three  weeks  afterwards.— Eft 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


4  IS 


British  Institution  "  in  bringing  forward  the  fine  works  of  the 
Great  Masters,"  as  this  measure  was  mine — suggested  to  the 
Institution  more  than  thirty  years  ago.  I  Avas  one  of  the 
original  members  of  the  Society,  and  it  immediately  struck  me 
that  the  surest  way  of  promoting  the  Fine  Arts,  and  of 
exciting  ambition  and  emulation  in  the  breasts  of  young 
British  artists,  would  be  to  give  them  frequent  opportunities  of 
seeing  the  finest  works  of  the  old  masters,  by  establishing  such 
an  exhibition  as  now  annually  takes  place.  I  wrote  to  a  friend 
of  mine  (since  deceased),  then  a  very  influential  member  of  the 
Institution,  and  stated  my  own  ideas  at  some  length,  requesting 
him  to  lay  my  letter  before  the  directors.  I  was  laughed  at 
by  many  at  the  time,  and  my  plan  treated  as  visionary.  I  was 
asked  whether  I  thought  it  likely  that  persons  possessing  fine 
pictures  in  their  collections  would  lend  them  to  be  exhibited 
at  the  British  Gallery  with  all  the  attendant  risks?  I  could 
only  answer  that  I,  myself,  would  do  so  with  pleasure. 

I  had  the  extreme  satisfaction  of  seeing  my  proposition 
adopted  by  the  directors,  and  it  is  for  the  public  to  say 
whether  the  measure  has  tended  "  to  promote  the  Fine  Arts." 

I  am,  &c, 

Bedford. 

From  S.  Rogers. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  St.  James's  Place.  30th  November,  1839. 

I  need  not  say  how  much  flattered  I  am  by  your  offer, 
or  how  happy  I  should  be  to  possess  a  picture  of  yours  ;  but, 
alas !  I  am  poor,  having  many  claims  upon  me,  and  I  have  not 
an  inch  uncovered  on  my  walls.  But  if  you  will  condescend  to 
do  what  you  are  so  good  as  to  say,  I  cannot  resist  your  pro- 
posal. Mr.  Leslie  has  just  painted  a  small  picture  for  me,  2  ft. 
by  2  ft.  6  in.,  and  his  price  was  thirty  guineas.  May  I  venture 
to  make  this  same  proposal  to  you? 

Your  idea  of  the  subject  I  am  delighted  with,  and  I  hope 
you  will  make  no  alteration  but  in  the  proportions  of  the 
figure. 

Yours  very  truly, 

S.  Kogeus.* 

*  On  the  opposite  leaf  of  this  note  is  written,  2nd  December,  1839.  Rogers 
calhd  to  sue  (my  picture  of)  '  The  Duke,'  and  taid,  apropos  of  my  '  Nupjleon  '  at 


4i6 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  Colonel  Gurwuod. 

MY  DEAR  SlR,  23,  Lowndes  Street,  11th  December,  1839. 

I  think  I  could  false  it  upon  myself  to  say  that  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  never  took  his  hat  off  to  cheer  on  the 
troops  on  any  one  occasion,  and  that  at  Waterloo,  although 
constancy  under  fire,  he  was  in  rear  of  the  troops  that  fought, 
as  all  officers  generally  are,  or  they  would  prevent  the  fire  of 
their  own  men. 

I  should  say  that  his  Grace  never  placed  himself  in  a 
theatrical  position,  which  might  be  paintaMe  as  a  fart,  but 
there  may  be  many  incidents  which  might  make  an  interesting 
picture- 
Very  faithfully  yours, 

J.  Gurwood. 

To  his  Wife. 

Leerls,  lGth  December,  1839. 

....  I  have  hardly  seen  Dr.  Hook  ;  the  business  of  the 
vicarage  is  so  harassing,  that  neither  he  nor  any  of  his  curates 
have  been  able  to  get  to  bed  before  three  in  the  morning  for  the 
whole  of  this  last  week.  Poor  Mrs.  Hook  is  in  the  midst  of 
hooping-cough,  and  looks  forlorn.  But  I  dine  with  the  vicar  on 
Friday  ;  yesterday  I  could  not.  The  fact  is,  I  cannot  dine  at  mid- 
day, as  they  do  on  Sundays  at  the  vicarage,  so  I  took  a  walk  for 
fresh  air  out  to  Woodhouse  Moor— Woodhouse  "mud,"  it  should 
be,  for  of  all  the  slimy,  s  ippery,  sticky,  wet,  muddy  walks,  I 
never  met  with  anything  equal  to  this.  But  Leeds  is  so  buried 
in  smoke  that  every  green  plot  is  a  paradise  ;  but  they  do  not 
make  the  best  of  their  paradise  here.  Mr.  Gott's  place  in  summer 
is  pretty;  but  the  tall  chimneys  are  the  end  of  all  landscape  about 
here,  and  bring  you  back  to  bricks  and  mortality  at  every  point. 

You  would  be  astonished  at  the  depth  of  the  religious  feeling 
in  Leeds  ;  it  is  not  feeling,  it  is  fury.  I  am  half  afraid  to  open 
my  lips  lest  I  offend  some  prejudice  or  the  other.  The  Roman 
Catholic  church  is  built,  and  a  handsome  building  it  is,  and  tho 
Bomanists  are  scattering  tracts  about  plentifully,  and  moving 

Drayton  Manor,  that  the  only  thing  Talleyrand  and  the  Duchesse  de  Dino  could 
noi  reconcile  was  the  stoutness  of  Napoleon  ;  and,  said  Rogers,  "  I  wish  you  would 
paint  one  making  him  thinner,  sm.dl,"  and  looking  keenly  at  me;  "or  large.* 
i  thought  it  my  duty  to  oiler  to  paint  it  suiull  for  lam,  and  I  wrote  to  him,  and 
this  is  his  answer. 

B.  K.  IIAYDUN. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


417 


heaven  and  earth  to  make  converts.  Dr.  Hook,  however,  keeps 
the  lead;  and  Hamilton,  the  Dissi  nting  minister,  a  fine  fellow, 
seems  very  sore  at  the  Doctor's  name.  It  is  curious ;  but  the 
vice  of  professional  jealousy  runs  deep  into  that  sacred  profes- 
sion, whose  duty  it  is  to  teach  us  how  to  oveicome  the  envies 
and  jealousies  and  petty  feelings  of  our  passionate  nature.  Dr. 
Hook  gave  us  a  splendid  sermon  yesterday  on  the  Atonement : 
it  was  very  fine  indeed.  The  crowds  which  go  to  church  and 
chapel  on  Sunday  in  Leeds  are  more  numerous  than  in  any  town 
I  ever  saw  before;  all  places  of  worship  swarm  with  worshippers 
in  Leeds.  It  is  very  remarkable,  very  creditable  to  the  ministers, 
and  highly  honourable  to  the  people.  Leeds  appears  to  me  to 
be  one  of  the  best  conducted  and  best  behaved  towns  I  know, 
and  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  facts  fully  bore  out  this  im- 
pression ;  indeed,  the  resident  inhabitants  of  Leeds,  Liverpool, 
and  Manchester  are  much  more  religious  than  in  London,  and 
better  people.  Honest  dealing  seems  to  guide  them  more 
universally  than  with  us  in  London.  I  don't  think  a  Leeds 
tradesman  ever  thinks  of  cheating,  or  if  he  does,  his  religion 
prevents  its  practice :  this  is  a  good  character. 

I  like  Leeds  for  one  reason — they  are  always  so  happy  to  see 
me,  and  make  me  so  much  "  at  home,"  I  feel  like  coming  into 
a  large  family  I  have  known  for  years.  They  are  a  thoroughly 
good  set  at  Leeds ;  they  are  such  domestic,  good  people.  In  all 
that  crash,  at  Leeds  no  bank  went ;  Mr.  Beckett  helped  them 
all  and  kept  them  up.  This  was  very  amiable,  and  an  act 
of  good  brotherhood,  which  makes  one  a  better  Christian  to 
hear  of. 


To  his  Sister,  Mrs.  Haviland. 

My  DEAR  HAL,  Sheffield,  3rd  January,  1840. 

I  begin  here  to-night ;  Montgomery,  the  poet,  is  presi- 
dent. I  lodge  with  two  old  maiden  ladies,  who  make  me  die 
several  times  in  the  twenty-four  hours.  They  bore  me  night 
and  day  to  know  if  there  be  "  anything  I  ivant."  At  last  I  said 
I  want  "  quiet."  Last  night  one  came  in  with  the  Sheffield 
paper,  wherein  the  committee  had  advertised  my  lectures  for 
to  night.  The  old  lady  looked  at  me  so  much  as  to  say,  "  and 
is  he  before  my  very  eyes ! "  gave  a  deep  sigh,  and  went  out  aga;n, 
leaving  the  paper  on  the  table.  Sometimes  1  hear  awful  whis- 
vul.  1.  2  a 


4i8 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


perings,  and  then  in  comes  the  little  girl  and  says,  "  Please,  Sir, 
Miss  Turner's  compliments,  and  if  there  is  anything  you  wish, 
she  begs  you  will  mention  it."  I  reply  :  "  I  want  nothing,  my 
dear,  but  my  breakfast  at  eight,  my  luncheon  at  one,  nnd  my 
dinner  at  five ;  and  don't  worrit  me  in  the  interval."  Then  out 
goes  the  girl,  and  I  hear  her  whisper,  "  he  says  he  icon't  he  wor- 
rited ;"  and  then  there's  a  dead  silence  for  an  hour ;  but  they 
can't  hold  out  longer. 

Sheffield  is  the  pleasantest  place  in  all  the  manufacturing 
towns  ;  the  approach  is  very  neat,  and  the  road  across  the  York- 
shire downs  beautiful,  like  the  Scotch  hills.  .  .  .  Frank's  going 
to  Fairbairn's  has  lost  him  a  year  at  a  most  critical  time.  He 
is  entered  for  the  October  term,  and  goes  to  a  private  tutor  near 
Oxford,  meanwhile,  with  five  or  six  other  young  fellows.  Fred, 
I  trust,  will  be  off  to  sea  in  June.  Had  he  been  older  he  would 
have  been  at  the  bombardment  of  Acre  ;  I  wish  he  had.  Did 
I  ever  tell  you  of  his  poor  brother,  when  he  was  quite  young, 
being  left  in  command  of  the  '  Algerine,'  and  the  sailors,  think- 
ing Lim  but  a  youngster,  began  to  take  liberties,  and  would  not 
obey  orders?  He  ordered  up  the  gunner,  had  a  carronade 
loaded,  and  told  the  men  if  they  did  not  at  once  go  to  their 
work  he  would  fire  a  gun  for  assistance  from  the  flag-ship, 
and  he  settled  them  in  five  minutes.  He  was  a  glorious  boy. 
His  death  has  been  a  great  blow  to  me.  .  .  . 

B.  E.  H. 

Extract  from  Letter  to  his  Wife. 

Hull,  3rd  January,  1 840. 
Poor  Hilton  is  gone.  All  my  life  they  puffed  the  poor 
fellow  against  me,  and  what  has  he  done  ?  Now  they  will  puff 
him  once  more  and  for  the  last  time.  There  is  nothing  mean 
men  take  such  delight  in  as  pretending  great  admiration  for 
an  inferior  man  in  order  to  run  down  a  man  whose  talents  they 
cannot  disprove.  Hilton  was  a  delicate,  amiable,  weak  creature, 
who  had  no  invention,  and  who  pilfered  from  everybody  living 
and  dead.  Fuseli  used  to  call  him  the  "  bold  tief."  In  my 
second  picture  I  opposed  him  at  the  British  Gallery  for  the 
hundred  guinea  prize,  and  I  beat  both  Hilton  and  Howard 
who,  by  the  way,  the  year  before,  had  hung  this  very  picture 
'  Dentatu.V  out  of  sight  in  the  ante-room  of  the  Royal  Academy. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


419 


Phillips  contended  that  I  had  no  right  to  the  pri::e,  because  I 
had  taken  two  years  to  paint '  Dentatus,'  but  the  directors  very 
properly  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  such  absurdities. 

Hilton  had  not  only  no  invention,  but  he  did  not  draw  finely. 
But  the  academicians  pushed  him  against  me  just  as  they 
pushed  Bird  against  Wilkie.  Where  is  Bird  now?  And 
where  will  Hilton  be  in  a  few  years  ?  where  Bird  is  now, 
forgotten ;  yet  I  will  be  bound  to  say  we  shall  have  a  huge 
hue  and  cry  over  poor  Hilton,  and  we  shall  be  told  that  the  art 
has  sustained  an  irreparable  loss. 

It  is  curious  how  malice  urges  men  to  praise  those  they  really 
desp'se,  in  order  to  injure  others  they  have  a  hatred  of. 

To  Lord  Melbourne. 

My  DEAR  LORD,  Hull,  8th  January,  1840. 

It  is  long  since  I  had  the  honour  of  writing.  My 
lectures  are  still  sought  after  and  my  reception  the  same.  I 
have  given  three  successive  courses  on  the  4  Principles  of  Art,' 
the  '  History  of  Art,'  the  '  State  of  Art,'  and  all  have  been  met 
by  the  same  enthusiasm. 

Wherever  the  Elgin  Marbles  were  not  known,  and  casts  did 
not  exist,  I  have  induced  their  purchase,  and  admiration. 

I  am  indeed  happy  to  be  convinced  that  her  Majesty  is 
advancing  the  Court  taste  by  having  herself  painted  in  historical 
compositions.  Though  small,  yet  as  I  trust  her  Majesty's  life 
will  be  long,  this  desire  on  her  part  will  and  must  help  to  turn 
the  Court  taste  from  Hutch  boors  and  the  low  humour  of 
peasants. 

Since  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you,  the  last  day  of  the 
session,  I  have  spent  some  days  at  Walmer  with  the  Buke  of 
Wellington,  and  I  was  highly  delighted  with  him. 

Nobody  need  wonder  at  his  military  success  who  hears  him 
talk,  or  reads  his  despatches.  The  sound  practical  reasons  he 
occasionally  gave  to  us  for  many  of  his  proceedings  in  Spain 
showed  his  sagacity  and  his  genius,  and  in  my  opinion,  and  I 
know  your  Lordship  will  allow  me  to  be  a  judge,  I  declare  he 
tells  a  story  better  than  any  man  I  ever  heard,  not  excepting 
Sir  Walter  Scott. 

He  gave  me  sittings  for  himself,  imagined  to  be  on  the  field 
of  Waterloo  with  Copenhagen  twenty  years  after  the  battle,  and 

2  E  2 


4^0 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


I  flatter  myself  you  will  neither  be  displeased  with  the  picture 
or  the  portrait,  should  yen  have  a  moment's  leisure  to  see  it  in 
the  season  when  shown. 

Your  Lordship  will  see  Hilton  is  dead,  the  historical  painter; 
a  good  man,  but  not  a  great  artist.  In  early  life  his  merits  were 
overrated  by  the  Royal  Academy  in  order  to  pit  him  against 
me,  but  I  beat  him  wherever  we  met. 

I  first  beat  him  with  my  second  picture  for  the  hundred 
guinea  prize  at  the  British  Institution  in  1810.  He  had  con- 
siderable power,  but  little  originality  of  invention.  He  pilfered 
from  all.  Fuseli  called  him  "  a  bold  tief."  He  was  not  master 
of  the  figure,  though  he  knew  a  great  deal  of  it.  His  best 
work  is  in  Chelsea  Church,  though  without  one  original 
thought.  As  keeper  of  the  Royal  Academy  he  will  not  be 
easily  supplied.  Eastlake  is  the  only  man  fit  to  be  his  suc- 
cessor, classically,  and  as  an  artist. 

To  turn  to  another  matter  more  immediately  interesting  to 
you,  I  believe  the  reports  of  distress  in  these  parts  to  be 
exaggerated.  Into  the  poorest  parts  of  Leeds  and  elsewhere  I 
made  a  point  of  going,  and  I  saw  fires  and  food,  comfort  and 
cleanliness.  Where  the  10,000  starving  poor  are  would  puzzle 
any  man  to  find,  though,  of  course,  misery  here  and  there  does 
exist.  Wishing  you  many  happy  returns  of  the  season, 
Believe  me,  my  dear  Lord, 

Your  grateful  servant, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

To  a  Pupil 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Lon'lo!],.21st  January,  1840. 

I  regret  to  hear  of  your  father's  difficulties.  As  I  passed 
my  word  to  your  landlord  to  pay  your  rent  due  if  you  could 
not,  so  that  you  might  be  able  to  return  home  and  help 
your  father ;  and  as  you  now  write  to  me  that  you  and  your 
father  are  really  unable  to  pay  the  rent,  I  will  undoubtedly 
pay  it,  so  make  your  mind  easy,  and  don't  let  it  press  on  you 
as  a  debt.  I  release  you  from  it  entirely.  You  obeyed  me 
strictly,  you  advanced  rapidly,  you  kept  your  word  of  following 
.  my  instructions,  and  I  kept  mine  of  educating  you  if  you  were 
supported.    But  do  not  despair  because  you  are  this  moment 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


421 


unfortunate.  Take  adversity  always  as  a  correction,  and  success 
more  to  be  feared. 

I  shall  be  most  happy  to  see  you  again  as  soon  as  your 
circumstances  and  the  help  of  your  friends  will  enable  you  to 
come  up  to  London ;  but  you  must  act  with  energy,  and  not 
forget  the  precepts  I  gave  you  when  here. 

Yours  faithfully, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

Extracts  from  Letters  to  Ms  Wife. 

Hull,  13th  January,  1840. 

I  wish  you  could  have  been  present  here  last  night. 
We  had  a  brilliant  discussion.  You  must  know  that  it  is  the 
fashion  of  the  gentlemen  here  to  read  papers  in  their  hall ; 
and  finding  that  the  audiences  to  my  lectures  were  double  the 
usual  amount  on  hall  nights,  and  the  lectures  not  admitting  of 
reply,  it  became  evident  to  me  that  something  was  brewing 
for  my  benefit ;  and  a  few  days  since  they  proposed  to  me  to 
"  read  a  paper  "  on  a  hall  night.  Certain  old  gentlemen  had 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  I  might  be  all  very  well  at  a 
lecture,  where,  like  the  priest  in  the  pulpit,  no  one  replied  to 
me,  and  I  had  it  all  my  own  way ;  but  if  I  were  caught  on 
hall  night,  and  laid  open  to  discussion,  I  should  be  dissected 
to  the  public  advantage  in  their  opinion.  I  agreed  at  once 
to  the  proposal,  and  chose  for  my  subject  '  The  Elgin  Marbles,' 
and  whether  Lord  Elgin  was  justified  in  removing  the  marbles 
from  Greece.  When  I  came  in,  the  president  sat  in  awful 
state,  with  the  treasurer  on  one  side  and  a  vacant  chair  for  me 
on  the  other,  the  platform  crowded  and  the  hall  full.  I  read 
my  paper  to  its  conclusion ;  and  then  up  got  a  little  man,  and 
soon  forgot  the  subject-matter  of  my  paper  to  fly  off  to  the 
Academy  question.  He  was  called  to  order.  Then  up  got  a 
second  and  third,  and  lastly  the  president,  all  praising  me 
highly,  but  maintaining  that  I  had  avoided  the  real  question 
at  issue,  viz.,  as  to  whether  Lord  Elgin  would  not  have  shown 
greater  regard  for  posterity  if  he  had  left  the  marbles  where 
he  found  them.  At  last  came  my  turn  to  reply,  and  I  de- 
molished all  their  flimsy  arguments  and  assertions  in  ten 
minutes.    I  showed  that  in  fifty  years  whole  temples  had  dis- 


422 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


appeared.  I  proved  by  printed  evidence  that  it  was  the  habit 
of  the  Turks  to  make  the  figures  a  target  for  musket  practice ; 
that  the  heads  had  been  knocked  off  and  polished  into  shot 
for  their  big  guns ;  and  that  travellers  and  tourists  daily  and 
hourly  were  breaking  off  a  hand  here  and  a  foot  there  to  take 
home  as  a  memento.  If  the  Turks  and  the  Greeks  had  relished 
and  understood  the  merits  of  these  works,  I  admitted  then  that 
the  question  became  altered ;  but  they  did  not,  and  indeed  could 
not,  and  therefore  Lord  Elgin  was  justified  in  removing  those 
invaluable  fragments  for  the  mere  sake  of  securing  their  pre- 
servation from  further  injury.  I  sat  down  amidst  thunders  of 
applause,  and  the  president  putting  the  question  to  the  vote, 
Lord  Elgin  was  voted  justisfied  nem.  con.  As  the  president  left 
the  chair  he  whispered  to  me,  "  I  should  have  said  exactly 
what  you  said  had  I  been  in  your  place."  I  went  off  home 
quite  satisfied  ;  and  the  others  to  supper,  to  debate  the  question 
over  again.    I  was  content  to  leave  it  where  it  was. 


Extracts  from  Letters  to  his  Wife. 

Oxford,  2nd  March,  1840. 

Last  evening  I  dined  en  famille  with  the  warden  of 
New  College,  and  spent  a  very  cheerful  evening.  His  eldest 
daughter  has  a  genius  for  humorous  sketches,  and  showed  me 
two  in  particular  that  made  me  die  with  laughing ;  one  was 
that  of  an  undergraduate,  who,  very  tipsy  one  night,  walked 
into  the  warden's  kitchen  instead  of  his  own  rooms,  and  could 
not  be  persuaded  of  his  mistake.  The  servants  therefore 
locked  him  in,  and  called  the  warden,  who  went  down  and 
tried  to  persuade  the  young  gentleman  to  go  to  his  own  rooms, 
but  to  no  purpose.  The  attitude  of  this  drunken  young  scamp, 
standing  on  his  heels  and  resting  against  the  kitchen  dresser, 
with  his  cap  and  tassel  over  his  nose  and  his  eyes,  doggedly 
looking  into  space  between  the  warden's  legs,  while  the 
warden  stood  in  front,  finger  up,  was  perfectly  irresistible.  I 
laughed  over  it  until  the  tears  came  into  my  eyes.  It  was  so 
true  to  life.  She  is  a  real  genius,  but  of  course  will  never 
develop  her  genius,  because  she  will  not  have  to  work  for  a 
living. 

I  have  learned  more  of  Oxford  these  last  few  days  than 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


423 


I  ever  knew  before.  The  undergraduates  abuse  the  Fellows, 
the  Fellows  abuse  the  warden,  and  the  warden  complains  of 
both. 

A  young  fellow  here  the  other  day  for  the  loan  of  30Z.  down 
made  himself  liable  for  8501,  and  will  have  to  pay  it. 

From  (Sir)  Peteu  Fairbairn. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Leeds,  1st  June,  1840. 

Up  to  the  moment  I  was  oblige;!  to  lea^e  town  I  was 
engaged  as  one  of  the  Anti-Corn  Law  Committee,  with  business 
in  connection  with  that  all-absorbing  question,  affecting  as  it 
does  the  very  vitals  of  the  manufacturing  and  commercial 
interests  of  the  country.  I  was  indeed  sorry  it  was  put  out  of 
my  power  to  pay  my  respects  to  you  personally  in  Burwood 
Place,  besides  the  pleasure  I  should  have  had  in  observing  the 
progress  you  had  made  in  the  picture. 

I  would  only  beg  of  you  not  to  hurry  the  picture  before 
giving  time  to  the  colours  to  sink  properly.  Between  you 
and  me,  I  am  anxious  for  your  fame,  as  well  as  the  pleasure  I 
hope  to  have  in  a  first-rate  work,  but  I  am  well  aware  this  can 
only  be  accomplished  by  a  good  deal  of  time  and  study  being 
dedicated  to  the  subject ;  I  know  you  will  forgive  me  if  I  speak 
out.  Do  not  hurry  the  work,  but  take  time,  and  in  return  you 
shall  not  want  the  means  to  get  on  in  the  interim.  In  ten 
days  or  a  fortnight  I  shall  be  more  in  funds  than  I  am  at 
present,  when  I  shall  take  care  you  are  duly  remembered.* 
Till  then, 

Believe  me,  truly  yours, 

P.  Fair  bairn. 

From  T.  Moore. 

DEAR  Mr.  HaYDON,  Sloperton,  1st  December,  1810. 

I  am  delighted  to  find  myself  so  kindly  remembered 
by  you,  and  trust  that  some  good  chance  may  before  lung 

*  In  a  note  underneath  this,  ILivdon  calls  attention  to  the  breadth  of  view  and 
liberal  tone  of  this  letter,  and  with  the  real  feeling  it  displays  both  for  the  Art 
and  artist,  as  compared  with  the  want  of  feeling  and  the  querulous  exactions  of 
those  patrons  who  know  1  ttle  of  Art  and  care  le.-s  for  the  artist,  worry  h  m  with 
thi  ir  petty  suggestions  and  complaints  instead  of  leaving  him  to  his  own  design. 
—Ed. 


424 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


bring  us  together.  I  am  not  surprised  at  your  success,  whether 
as  lecturer  or  painter,  and  if  you  inspire  the  Broadbrims  with 
a  love  for  the  Arts  you  will  indeed  do  wonders.  Mrs.  Moore 
was  much  pleased  by  your  remembrance  of  her. 

Ever  truly  yours, 

Thomas  Moore. 

From  William  Hamilton,  on  the  Elgin  Marbles. 

12  Bolton  Row,  25th  December,  1840. 

I  have  read  your  note  and  paper,  and  I  wish  you  a 
merry  Christmas  amongst  your  newly  enlightened  friends.*  I 
hope  the  feeling  you  have  created  amongst  them  may  not  be 
only  of  a  day. 

I  have  read  the  report  of  your  lecture  on  the  Elgin  Marbles, 
....  and  1  must  trouble  you  with  a  few  corrections  on  points 
which  came  under  my  own  observation : — 

a.  The  rock  on  which  we  split  was  a  rock  "a  fleur 
d'eau,"  off  the  island  of  Cerigo,  close  to  the  mouth  of  the 
harbour. 

b.  We  were  not  in  our  direct  course  for  England,  but  had 
been  obliged  to  put  about  the  night  before,  having  sprung  a 
leak  in  a  part  of  the  ship  where  the  weight  of  the  marbles 
laid  her  too  deep  in  the  water. 

c.  I  introduced  Canova  first  to  the  marbles,  and  I  never 
shall  forget  his  attitude  of  astonishment  and  delight  when 
gazing  upon  them  as  if  they  were  really  motionless  living 
figures,  and  when  he  said,  "  Oh !  that  I  were  a  young  man, 
and  had  to  begin  again,  I  should  work  on  totally  different 
principles  from  what  I  have  done,  and  form,  I  hope,  an  entirely 
new  school." 

It  was  evident,  as  you  say  also,  that  he  at  once  saw  that 
all  the  chefs  d'eeuvre,  as  supposed,  of  antiquity  which  he  had 
studied  and  admired  at  home  or  elsewhere,  were  in  his  eye  as 
naught.  And  you  are  aware  that  even  before  he  had  seen 
them,  or  the  description  given  of  them  to  him  by  Lord  Elgin 
at  Koine,  Canova  had  recommended  him  never  to  have  them 
touched  by  the  hands  of  a  restorer. 

*  The  abolitionists.— Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


4-5 


Indeed,  we  may  date  from  that  period  the  improved  feeling 
now  existing  at  home  respecting  the  futility  of  restoring 
antique  fragments,  a  practice  now  become  almost  obsolete,  with 
the  gr.  at  exception,  however,  of  the  iEgina  Marbles  by  Thor- 
waldsen. 

d.  Payne  Knight  had  delivered  his  opinion  of  the  (alleged) 
inferior  character  of  the  Elgin  Marbles,  and  of  their  having 
been,  part  at  least,  set  up  by  Hadrian,  whilst  Lord  Elgin  was 
then  a  detenue  amongst  other  English  in  F ranee,  from  whence 
he  was  not  released  until  1S0G.  This  was  a  very  unlucky 
circumstance  for  their  reception  in  this  country — les  absents  out 
toujours  tort. 

e.  All  the  artists  who  conducted  Lord  Elgin's  operations  at 
Athens  were  engaged  by  me  (except  Luiserni,  the  landscape 
painter,  who  was  recommended  by  Sir  William  Hamilton), 
and  not  at  Naples,  which  could  not  have  supplied  them, 
but  at  Eome,  where  I  went  at  Lord  Elgin's  request  from 
Messina. 

/.  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  details  of  the  removal  of  the 
marbles  from  Athens  (this  was  under  the  entire  direction  of 
Luiserni),  though  I  happened  to  be  present  when  the  ship 
'  Mentor,'  which  was  wrecked,  sailed  from  the  Piraeus  with  a 
portion  of  them,  about  fifteen  or  eighteen  large  cases,  four  of 
which  I  recovered  that  year  by  means  of  divers,  and  the  rest 
were  found  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea  by  the  same  divers  two 
years  after,  when  the  ship  had  gone  to  pieces. 

g.  The  divers  were  not  the  inhabitants  of  the  coast,  i.e. 
the  neighbouring  coast.  I  had  to  send  for  them  to  the 
islands  of  Cos,  Syene,  &c,  on  the  opposite  coast  of  Asia 
Minor ;  and  I  waited  their  arrival  in  Cerigo,  in  which  island 
I  remained  four  months  to  carry  on  and  complete  the  under- 
taking. 

h.  My  valuation  before  the  Committee  of  the  House  of 
Commons  is,  I  believe,  acknowledged  now  by  all  who  think 
of  the  subject  at  all  to  be  at  least  nearest  the  real  value 
of  the  marbles,  though  still,  if  now  to  be  valued,  far  from 
adequate. 

i.  I  can't  swim  at  all,*  and  therefore  I  am  not  likely  to 

*  Note  by  B.  R.  H. — "  Then  you  ou^bt  to  have  swum.  To  put  you  ashore  in 
a  boat  destroys  the  poeti  y  of  the  whole  thing.    Horrible !  "—Ed. 


4:6 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


have  escaped  from  the  shipwreck  swimming  with  my  papers  in 
my  mouth.    Lord  Elgin  was  fond  of  a  good  story. 

Ever  yours, 

W.  Hamilton. 


To  the  Bishop  of  Chichester. 


My  dear  Loud, 


London,  ISth  April,  1341. 


1  am  glad  Phillips  is  painting  you,  for  I  know  no  man 
in  English  portrait  painting  who  equals  his  broad,  manly 
power  in  men.  With  respect  to  his  high  opinion  of  my  talents 
as  an  artist,  it  was  a  pity  he  did  not  perceive  them  in  1809, 
when  he  was  one  of  the  hangers  of  '  Dentatus,'  and  put  it  in 
the  dark  :  a  picture  executed  at  twenty-two  years  of  age  on 
principles  which,  when  explained  to  the  University  of  Oxford 
thirty-one  years  afterwards,  were  received  with  enthusiasm. 
However,  "  blessed  is  the  man  to  whom  the  Lord  doth  not 
impute  sin." 

I  shall  be  most  happy  to  see  his  portrait  of  you,  as  I  feel 
sure  it  will  be  a  fine  one ;  and  after  he  has  done,  your  Lordship 
must  give  me  a  sitting  for  my  collection. 


To  a  young  Lady  who  had  been  deaf  and  dumb  through  illness. 


I  am  very  happy  to  hear  from  you  ;  and  if  you  will  send 
up  your  drawings  to  me,  I  will  always  correct  them  and  send 
them  back.  You  shall  have  a  drawing-book  in  a  few  days,  as 
soon  as  I  have  time  to  get  it.  Make  yourself,  my  dear  Eliza- 
beth, mistress  of  drawing,  because,  though  Cod  has  deprived 
you  of  hearing,  He  has  blessed  you  with  sight,  the  greatest 
blessing  of  all  the  senses ;  and  if  you  will  cultivate  drawing, 
you  will  never  have  an  irksome  moment,  and  you  will  never 
care  about  hearing.  I  assure  you  many  people  would  be  glad 
to  be  deaf  sometimes,  they  hear  such  disagreeable  things. 
You  cannot  put  up  your  hands  to  your  ears,  for  that  would 


I  am,  my  dear  Lord,  ever  truly  yours, 
B.  R.  Haydon. 


My  dearest  Elizabeth, 


19th  October,  1841. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


427 


be  rude,  but  you  can  shut  your  eyes  in  a  moment  if  you  do  not 
like  to  see  anything  offensive. 

I  know  a  good  man  whom  God  has  deprived  of  hearing;  but 
he  had  good  eyes,  and  he  studied  drawing,  and  drew  beauti- 
fully, and  he  was  the  happiest  man  in  the  world,  as  you  will  be 
the  happiest  woman,  if  you  learn  to  draw.  Don't  draw  non- 
sense ;  but  draw  the  human  head,  and  face,  and  eyes,  and 
then  you  will  be  able  to  draw  your  good  papa  and  mamma, 
and  sister  and  brother,  and  that  will  make  you  and  them  very 
happy. 

Trust  in  God,  my  dear  little  friend,  and  pray  to  Him  every 
night  and  every  morning,  and  feel  grateful  for  the  many  bless- 
ings you  enjoy  in  spite  of  the  one  affliction  He  has  been  pleased 
to  give  you.  You  will  find,  after  all,  that  you  will  remember 
Him  more,  and  pray  to  Him  oftener,  and  be  more  blessed  than 
other  people  who  are  able  to  hear  everything — and  yet  forget 
Him  all  their  lives. 

Kind  regards  to  papa  and  mamma. 

Your  affectionate  friend, 

B.  R.  Haydox. 

From  Serjeant  Talfoukd. 

3,  Serjeants'  Inn,  23rd  October,  1841. 

I  cannot  refrain  from  expressing  to  you  how  much 
gratified  we  were  by  the  lecture  your  kindness  afforded  us  the 
opportunity  of  hearing  last  night  on  Sir  David  Wilkie.  The 
details  of  his  early  course,  steeped  in  the  feeling  of  old  regard, 
had  a  double  interest  from  the  subject  and  the  relator,  which  I 
have  scarcely  ever  (if  ever)  felt  on  such  an  occasion ;  and  the 
whole,  full  of  instruction  for  students  of  Art,  was  no  less  affect- 
ing and  suggestive  to  us  who  are  only  worshippers  in  the  outer 
gate  of  the  Temple.  You  did  not  want  admirers,  even  from  the 
Academy,  for  Maclise,  who  sat  next  to  us,  expressed  himself 
exceedingly  charmed  by  the  entire  lecture. 

I  hope  that  Sir  Robert  Peel,  who  I  rejoice  to  find  in  friendly 
communication  with  you,  will  take  care  that  in  the  decoration 

*  Th's  kindly  hope  was  not  realised.  The  derision  of  the  Commission,  of 
which  Sir  K.ibert  Peel  was  the  leading  n  ember,  set  aside  Huydoii  (rum  any 
6hare  in  the  decoration  of  the  Houses  of  i'ailiament.— Eo. 


4:8 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


of  the  new  Houses  of  Parliament  with  works  of  High  British 
Art,  you  shall  have  a  fair  scope  for  your  genius ;  and  if  he 
should  accomplish  this,  I  shall  be  quite  reconciled  to  all  the 
events  which  have  made  him  what  he  is — and  what,  if  his  life 
is  spared,  he  will  assuredly  continue  for  many  years. 

Believe  me,  &c, 

T.  N.  Talfourd. 

Extmd  from  Mr.  Harold  Stanley,  on  German  Cartoons. 

Munich,  9th  April,  1S42. 

The  Germans  seek  so  little  after  peculiarity  in  the 
execution  of  their  work,  or  I  should  rather  say  manner,  that 
the  process  of  each,  with  the  slightest  variation,  is  the  same. 
Their  finished  sketch  of  a  composition  is  in  lead- pencil.  If  for 
a  large  work,  they  are  of  some  considerable  size.  Kaulbach's, 
for  the  '  Battle  of  the  Huns,'  was  5  feet ;  for  his  '  Destruction 
of  Jerusalem,'  7  feet ;  the  figures  being  in  this  smaller,  from 
their  number.  Professor  Hess's  are  not  so  large,  but  more 
highly  finished,  and  completely  studied  from  nature,  so  that 
from  them  his  pupils  can  finish  the  cartoon,  he  having  only  to 
retouch.  In  these  sketches  they  give,  with  or  without  nature, 
the  intended  expressive  action  and  throw  of  drapery  ;  in  other 
words,  the  whole  is  composed  to  be  afterwards  corrected  more 
fully  by  nature  in  the  large  cartoon.  Schnorr  is  the  only 
artist  here  w  ho  works  his  large  cartoon  from  a  slight  scribble 
sketch,  merely  for  the  position  of  the  figure.  Formerly  he 
employed  the  same  means  I  have  mentioned.  He  possesses  an 
inconceivable  rapidity  of  execution.  With  the  exception  of 
Hess,  they  all  work  their  own  cartoons.  An  outline  is  then 
made  from  the  sketch  on  the  cartoon,  and  each  individual 
figure  worked  out,  one  by  one,  beginning,  if  the  subject  allows 
it,  of  that  figure  or  figures  wherein  the  strongest  interest  lies ; 
the  character  or  quantity  of  the  shadow  being  guided  by  the 
sketch.  The  cartoon  is  worked  in  charcoal,  shadows  rubbed  in 
with  a  stump.  Kaul bach,  from  his  great  correctness  in  draw  ing, 
is  never  satisfied  until  his  lines  are  determined,  always  runs 
over  them  with  cou/e'-chalk,  and  sharpens  at  the  same  time 
the  various  parts. 

When  the  drawing  is  finished,  it  is  steamed,  and  a  tracing 


B.  R.  HA  YDON.  429 

of  the  whole  is  then  made  to  be  applied  to  the  wall.  A  German 
hardly  ever  designs  the  outline  of  even  the  most  trifling  thing 
in  any  other  material  than  charcoal,  tracing  with  it  the  finest 
possible  line.  When  satisfied  as  to  its  correctness,  he  sketches 
over  it  with  a  lead-pencil,  rubbing  in  the  shadows.  They 
make  almost  invariably  all  their  studies  with  a  lead-pencil. 

Yours  very  truly, 

Harold  Stanley. 

From  Horatio  Smith. 

My  DEAR  HaYDON,  Brighton,  23rd  July,  1842. 

I  hope  you  continue  in  good  health,  with  improved  sight, 
and  your  old  energetic  resolution  to  fight  your  way  manfully 
to  the  last,  and  leave  a  name  behind  you,  if  you  had  nothing 
else  to  leave.  For  me,  I  feel  that  I  am  getting  old  both  in 
body  and  intellect,  but  I  am  thankful  to  say  that  I  have  no 
serious  ailments,  and  that  my  spirits  are  good.  How  time 
runs  out !  I  have  no  recollection  of  your  children  except  as 
youngsters,  and  I  am  very  glad  to  find  that  they  promise  so 
well  as  they  advance  towards  the  active  business  of  life.  We 
have  had  our  struggles,  Heaven  knows !  but  those  of  the  rising 
generation  will  be  still  more  arduous,  for  they  will  have  greater 
competition  and  worse  times  to  encounter. 

Ever,  dear  Haydon,  yours  very  truly, 

Horatio  Smith. 

To  his  Sister,  Mrs.  Haviland. 

My  DEAR  HARRIET,  London,  28th  October.  1842. 

I  have  done  my  cartoon  ('  Adam  and  Eve '),  and  am  on 
'  Curtius.'  I  mean  to  paint  my  own  head  for  him.  As  I  have 
never  done  this,  I  think  it  but  fair. 

I  really  feel  uneasy  about  Art.  Eastlake  is  so  decidedly 
German.  The  School  of  Design  I  founded  has  got  into  the 
hands  of  two  young  men  with  German  tendencies,  who  are 
doing  great  mischief.  I  shall  oppose  it,  and  have  begun.  The 
French  make  all  mechanics  draw  and  paint  the  figure  first,  and 
then  go  to  ornament.  The  Germans  begin  with  ornament,  and 
then  go  to  the  figure.    The  French  is  the  sound  code,  because 


430 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


the  mechanics  learn  sound  Art,  and  carry  sound  Art  to  orna- 
mental Art ;  while  the  Germans  become  corrupted  by  ornamental 
Art,  and  carry  bad  taste  to  High  Art.  Yet  in  spite  of  the 
evidence  of  the  superiority  of  the  French  system,  Eastlake 
advised  the  German  system  to  be  adopted.  In  a  few  years,  if 
not  checked,  glare,  flatness,  hardness,  and  violence  will  take 
the  place  of  colour,  harmony,  reality,  and  nature  in  the  English 
School. 

It  is  a  dangerous  thing  to  interfere,  but  interfere  I  must — 
in  the  public  interest  and  in  the  interest  of  Art. 

To  Eastlake. 

My  DEAR  EASTLAKE,  London,  31st  October,  1842. 

If  you  remain  Secretary  for  the  Commission  another 
year,  your  amiableness  will  go.  What  occasion  was  there  for 
you  to  write  me  such  an  irritable  note  ?  *  I  went  to  see  Hess's 
picture,  as  you  asked  of  me,  and  at  once  perceived  the  prin- 
ciple which  you  have  recently  engrafted  on  your  own  style. 

As  you  had  previously  belonged  to  the  Council  of  the  School 
of  Design,  what  trouble  could  it  give  you  to  tell  me  if  you  had 
recommended  Herbert  as  well  as  Dyce  ?  Because  if  you  did, 
there  is  surely  some  foundation  for  my  fear  that,  with  the  very 
best  intentions  for  the  taste  of  the  country,  you  have  a  design 
to  engraft  German  Art  on  the  rising  youth,  for  both  Dyce  and 
Herbert  are  German  to  the  bone  and  marrow.  You  are  also  in 
correspondence  with  Cornelius  and  Schnorr,  and  surely  it  is  not 
any  insult  to  you  to  infer  that  you  will  take  their  advice,  and 
thus  become,  in  spite  of  yourself,  an  instrument  in  their  hands 
to  advance  their  sectarian  doctrines. 

My  system  of  reform  in  our  Art  was  to  add  what  we  wanted 
without  losing  what  we  have.  The  German  system  is  to  abolish 
what  we  have  by  substituting  what  we  have  not. 

Every  now  and  then,  when  I  ask  you  a  searching  question, 
you  threaten  me  with  a  dissolution  of  intercourse.  My  dear 
Eastlake,  I  am  quite  passive,  and  leave  the  decision  to  you. 

The  Art  of  my  country  and  the  elevation  of  the  taste  of  its 
people,  have  been  the  leading  objects  of  my  existence  from  my 

*  The  nnte  in  question  is  missing,  as  well  as  the  reply,  although  once  wafered 
into  the  Journal. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


43' 


boyhood.  For  this  I  have  sacrificed  everything  that  could 
advance  my  own  personal  interests  in  life ;  and  you  may  rely  on 
it,  that  having  got  the  people  s  >  far  on  the  road,  I  shall  be 
ever  alive  and  watchful  to  any  danger  which  may  render  them 
the  victims  of  false  theories  and  barbarian  practice,  under 
whatever  shelter  they  be  put  forth. 

I  am,  dear  Eastlake,  yours  truly, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

To  Eastlake. 

My  DEAR  EaSTLAKE,  London,  4th  November,  1842. 

The  question  between  us  is,  did  you  or  did  you  not 
recommend  Herbert  ? 

You  do  not  answer  this  question,  but  you  evade  it  by  saying 
that  I  raise  "a  gratuitous  assumption."  If  you  did  recommend 
him,  it  is  not  a  gratuitous  assumption.  If  you  did  not,  I  will 
admit  my  error  and  apologise. 

You  recommended  Dyce  as  a  teacher,  and  I  say  and  will  prove 
that  Dyce  is  vicious  as  an  artist.  I  ask  you  if  you  recom- 
mended Herbert,  who  is  also  vicious,  though  not  to  the  same 
degree,  and  you  reply  that  I  raise  "  false  assumptions,"  but  you 
do  not  answer  my  question. 

With  respect  to  German  Art,  I  wish  to  speak  with  all  the  re- 
spect due  to  an  illustrious  school ;  but  I  can  admit  of  no  palliation 
for  adopting,  at  a  more  advanced  period  of  Art,  a  principle  that 
was  only  acted  on  in  utter  ignorance  in  a  period  of  barbarism. 

I  will  admit  of  no  palliation  for  leaving  out  colour,  light  and 
shadow,  backgrounds,  handling  and  seizing  the  leading  points  of 
objects  by  a  touch,  leaving  atmosphere  to  unite  the  abstraction. 

I  affirm  that  the  highest  quality  of  expression  and  form  are 
injured  ly  the  omission,  and  are  rendered  duubly  effectual  by 
the  adoption. 

I  affirm  that  there  is  more  drawing  and  comprehension  of 
mind  in  the  mode  of  drawing  a  head  as  it  is  drawn  by  Velas- 
quez, than  in  the  '  Hero  '  of  Cornelius  or  a  head  of  Hess. 

As  to  the  Germans  speaking  with  "  contempt  of  English  Art," 
is  that  any  proof  we  deserve  it  ?  My  dear  Eastlake,  how  can 
you  be  so  simple?  They  want  employment  over  here.  They 
want  a  bit  of  English  cake.  Did  you  ever  know  a  German,  from 
prince  to  peasant,  who  did  not  ?  And  if  Cornelius  and  his  fellow- 


432 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


Germans  can  persuade  the  travelling  English  that  we  British 
painters  are  unfit,  or  not  capable  to  decorate  our  own  Houses  of 
Parliament,  they  may  succeed  in  getting  a  slice.  But  it  is  not 
the  less  our  duty  to  resist  any  such  attempt. 

To  conclude  ;  I  think  you  have  done  English  Art  great  injury 
by  your  recommendation  of  Mr.  Dyce  to  his  post  at  the  School 
of  Design ;  and  if  Herbert  came  also  under  your  advice,  you 
have  increased  that  injury. 

With  regard  to  your  report,  we  are  all  very  much  indebted 
to  you  for  the  valuable  materials  you  have  collected,  only 
"forget  not  England's  precedence"  of  teaching  nations  how  to 
paint  as  well  as  to  govern  and  fight ;  and  believe  me  a  mau 
may  yet  "  be  wise,  and  never  see  the  Louvre." 

Believe  me  yours  affectionately, 

B.  E.  Haydojt. 

From  Eastlake. 

My  DEAR  HAYDON,  Thursday,  17tn  November. 

Thanks  for  the  ticket  of  your  syllabus  of  lectures. 
Success  to  all  your  rational  views. 

Yours  always, 

C.  L.  Eastlake. 

From  Haydon  to  Eastlake. 

London,  18th  November. 

You  dog!  I  have  no  irrational  views.  I  love  my 
country's  glory  more  than  I  do  my  life. 

I  claim  for  it  the  same  opportunity  to  raise  a  name  in  Art 
by  State  employment  as  the  German  artists  did  for  Germany 
when  their  State  employment  spread  its  blessings  upon  them. 

I  see  no  right  that  they  have  to  intrude  upon  us  when  we 
are  in  a  progressive  state,  and  only  want  from  our  Government 
that  which  they  get  from  their  own. 

You  wish  success  to  my  rational  views ;  I  wish  confusion  to 
your  German  ones  (if  you  hold  any). 

But,  my  dear  Eastlake,  let  Art  never  make  any  difference 
between  us.  I  lament  in  Art  there  is  not  the  same  breeding 
as  in  politics. 


B.  R.  II AY  DON. 


433 


Politics  in  public  life  make  no  difference  in  piivate  friend- 
ship, nor  ought  politics  in  Art. 

I  a,m  always  yours, 

B.  E.  Haydon. 

To  Tm  Sister,  Mrs.  Havit.and. 

(No  date),  1812. 

I  have  had  a  kind  letter  from  Eastlake,  but  still  I  fear 
I  have  been  slighted.  Of  all — Hussey,  Barry,  West,  Reynolds — 
I  am  certainly  the  man  who  sacrificed  everything,  and  by  keep- 
ing the  subject  of  public  employment  for  painters  before  tbe 
public,  have  at  length  brought  matters  to  their  present  state. 
i\Iy  theory  at  least  is  admitted  to  be  correct,  and  practical 
effect  is  about  to  be  given  to  it ;  yet  my  pupil  is  examined  and 
I  am  omitted.  The  fact  is,  tribunals  on  Art  in  England  are 
timid  for  want  of  knowledge.  They  have  not  the  energy  to 
act  at  once ;  but  are  always  putting  off  the  responsibility  of 
placing  confidence  in  any  one  man,  fearing  to  give  any  one  man 
a  chance  of  great  distinction ;  and  most  of  all  fearing  to  give 
me  such  a  chance,  because  if  they  were  to  give  it  to  me,  what 
can  they  say  for  rejecting  and  neglecting  me  for  so  long  ? 
Eight  and  thirty  years  have  I  been  in  the  Art,  and  out  of  those 
years  for  thirty  two  years  I  have  had  no  commissions;  and  now, 
after  telling  me  for  eight  and  thirty  years  that  I  am  wrong, 
they  find  out  that  I  am  right  1  I  wait  for  the  report,  and  then 
be  assured  if  I  am  not  done  justice  to,  I  will  come  down  with 
my  sledge-hammer  of  iron  truths.  Sir  Robert  Peel  may  be  my 
friend,  and  may  intend  lo  do  me  right,  but  is  it  not  a  disgrace 
to  expect  me  to  descend  into  the  arena  at  fifty-six  years  of 
age,  and  to  contend  for  a  prize  ?  I,  too,  who  have  painted 
'Solomon,'  and  '  Jerusalem,'  and  'Lazarus' !  but  to  give  me  a 
commission,  oh,  no !  that  would  offend  the  Boyal  Academy ; 
it  would  be  flying  in  their  faces;  and  how  can  I  expect  justice 
if  1  do  compete  ?  Who  is  to  bestow  it  ?  I  competed  for  the 
Nelson  competition  (which  ended  in  the  present  wretched 
monument) ;  and  although  everybody,  even  Westmacott,  said 
that  my  plan  of  combining  painting  with  architecture  was  the 
le.-t,  yet  I  had  no  chance. 

Now  ought  I,  with  all  this  prejudice  against  me,  risk  my 
reputation  a  second  time  ?    Do  write  and  give  me  your  well- 

vol.  L  2  F 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


weighed  opinion  on  the  propriety  of  competing  or  not  with  the 
cartoons. 

Ever  your  affectionate  brother, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

From  Elizabeth  Barrett  (Browning). 
My  dear  Sir, 

My  intention  was  to  return  by  your  messenger,  when  he 
should  come  for  the  picture,  some  expression  of  my  sense  of 
your  very  great  kindness  in  trusting  it  with  me,  together  with 
this  sonnet,  but  having  since  heard  from  my  sister  that  it  may 
be  almost  as  long  as  I  wish  (no !  it  can't  be  so  long)  before  you 
send  such  a  messenger,  I  cannot  defer  thanking  you  beyond 
to-day,  lest  you  should  fancy  me  either  struck  dumb  with  the 
pleasure  you  conferred,  or  still  worse,  born  an  ungrateful 
person. 

Pray,  dear  Sir,  believe  how  different  is  the  reality  from  the 
last  supposition. 

I  have  indeed  looked  at  your  picture  until  I  lost  my  obli- 
gation to  you  in  my  admiration  of  your  work,  but  in  no 
other  way  have  I  been  ungrateful.  How  could  I  be  so? 
I  have  seen  the  great  poet  who  "reigns  over  us"  twice, 
face  to  face,  and  by  you  1  see  him  the  third  time.  You  have 
brought  me  Wordsworth  and  Helvellyn  into  this  dark  and 
solitary  room.  How  should  I  not  thank  you?  Judge  for 
yourself,  Mr.  Haydon. 

But  you  will  judge  the  Sonnet,  too,  and  will  probably 
not  acquit  it.  It  confesses  to  speaking  unworthily  and 
weakly  the  feeling  of  its  writer,  but  she  is  none  the  less  your 
obliged 

Elizabeth  Barrett. 

T.S. — A  letter  from  our  mutual  dear  friend,  Miss  Mitford, 
says  that  Mr.  Lucas  had  been  talking  to  her  rapturously  of 
your  cartoon,  the  cartoon  which  I  have  seen  with  my  ears. 

Mrs.  Browning's  Sonnet  on  IIayeon's  Picture  of  Wordsworth,  1842. 

«*  Wordsworth  upon  Helvelljn!   Let  the  cloud 
Ebb  audibly  along  the  mountain  wind, 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


435 


Then  break  against  the  rock,  and  show  behind 
The  lowland  vallies  floating  up  to  crowd 
The  sense  with  beauty.    He  with  forehead  bowed 
And  humble-lidded  eyes,  as  one  inclined 
Before  the  sovran  thoughts  of  his  own  mind, 
And  very  meek  with  inspirations  proud; 
Takes  here  his  rightful  place  as  Poet-Priest 
By  the  high  altar,  singing  prayer  and  prayer 
To  the  yet  higher  heavens.    A  vision  free 
And  noble,  Haydon,  hath  thine  art  releast. 
No  portrait  this  with  academic  air! 
This  is  the  poet  and  his  poetry." 

From  Sir  Samuel  Meyrick. 

Goodrich  Ourt.  Ross,  Hereford, 
SlE,  4th  February,  18 13. 

Several  years  have  elapsed  since  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  you,  but  your  great  talents  live  in  my  memory ;  I  am 
therefore  anxious  to  return  such  sort  of  answers  to  your  queries 
as  most  fully  suit  your  purpose. 

This  will  oblige  me  to  refer  to  contemporary  writers  in  order 
that  you  may  have  good  authorities,  which  I  will  do  as  soon  as 
possible. 

This,  therefore,  is  merely  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  your 
letter,  and  to  assure  you  that  I  will  pay  due  attention  to  its 
contents. 

I  remain,  Sir,  &c, 

Saml.  Meykick. 

From  Sir  Samuel  Meyrick. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  6th  February,  1843. 

I  cannot  give  you  the  full  information  I  could  have 
wished,  because  I  have  neither  Knighton  nor  Murimuth  in 
whose  annals  are  the  particulars  of  the  scene  you  intend  to 
represent.  Froissart  I  have  searched  diligently,  but  he  does 
not  notice  the  procession  through  London. 

You  may  certainly  have  the  street,  but  not  in  the  modern 
style,  with  foot  pavements  at  the  side.  It  must  be  like  one  in 
a  French  town,  with  a  couple  of  gutters,  or  one  in  middle,  as 
at  Eouen,  for  instance,  and  the  houses  in  the  old  style,  with 
gables. 

Although  of  much  later  da'e,  the  print  by  Vertue,  publihhed 

2  f  2 


436 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


by  the  Society  of  Antiquaries  of  the  procession  of  Edward  VI., 
through  the  city,  will  give  you  some  idea  how  the  hangings 
and  tapestry  were  arranged ;  and  I  dare  say  Colnaghi  could 
show  you  other  unobjectionable  authorities.  Please  to  read 
'  Lingard's  Descriptive  History  of  England.'  Svo.  ed.,  vol.  4, 
pp.  It 6.  He  says  that  the  King  of  France  was  on  a  cream- 
coloured  charger,  with  magnificent  trappings.  Turner,  in  his 
'History  of  England,'  says,  "a  white  courser,"  but  as  both 
mention  the  trappings,  I  think  unless  you  find  anything  to  the 
contrary  in  the  authors  mentioned  on  the  other  side,  you  would 
be  justified  in  putting  him  in  armour.  The  trappings,  I  con- 
ceive, would  be  a  housing  of  sky-blue,  powdered  with  gold 
fleur-de-lys.  King  John's  jupon  of  the  same,  which  may  be 
partly  hid  by  a  cloak,  if  you  choose.  Turner  says,  the  Black 
Prince  was  on  a  small  black  pony,  with  nothing  to  distinguish 
him.  I  should  therefore  advise  you  to  dress  him  like  Stot- 
hard's  monumental  effigy  (the  ornament  of  which  is  rubbed 
away  from  the  breast)  of  William  of  Hatfield.  Put  a  sword  in 
his  military  girdle,  but  none  to  that  of  the  King  of  France. 

You  will  find  representations  of  John,  King  of  France,  in 
Monfaucon's  '  Monarchie  Francaise,'  but  the  armour  of  both 
countries  was  alike. 

I  would  recommend  you  to  buy  a  little  book  which  formed 
one  of  the  library  of  entertaining  knowledge,  published  by 
Knight,  Ludgate  Street,  for  about  4s.  6d.,  and  probably  at 
other  booksellers  now  to  be  had  for  less,  the  'History  of 
British  Costume,'  by  Planche.  This  will  give  you  authorities 
in  all  cases,  and  may  be  fully  relied  on. 

Wishing  I  could  do  better  as  bellows-blower  to  an  excellent 
performer, 

I  remain,  my  dear  Sir,  truly  yours, 

Saml.  Meyrick. 

From  Sir  Samuel  Meyrick. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Goodrich  Court,  7th  February,  1S43. 

Most  certainly  you  may,  and  ought  to  put  chimneys,  not 
with  chimney-pots,  as  at  present ;  and  I  should  think  your 
buildings  ought  to  be  timber-houses,  like  those  in  Coventry 
and  Chester. 

I  find  I  have  Murimuth  bound  as  a  2nd  vol.  to  Twist,  and  so 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


437 


lettered.  Not  a  word  does  he  say  beyond  the  arrival  of  John  in 
England  in  1357,  so  that  Knighton  is  the  only  author  you  need 
examine.  Gower  would  be  twenty-seven  years  of  age  in  1357, 
and  Chaucer  about  seventeen  or  eighteen,  as  on  his  legal 
examination  as  a  witness  in  1386  he  states  himself  to  be  forty 
years  and  upwards. 

I  think  you  had  better  ask  Colnaghi  to  show  you  a  sketch 
by  Kerricke,  of  the  equestrian  statue  of  Bernabo  Visconte, 
Duke  of  Milan,  as  the  leather  trappings  of  the  horse  would  be 
authority  for  you  for  the  Black  Prince's,  and  as  he  is  in  armour 
without  his  bassinet  and  camail,  you  might  so  attire  John 
putting  a  cap  on  his  head  which  you  might  find  in  Flanche. 
This  etching  would  also  show  you  the  form  of  the  saddle.  If  you 
wish  to  put  the  King  of  France  in  a  robe  of  peace,  unless 
Knighton  says  to  the  contrary,  you  would  be  at  perfect  liberty 
to  do  so,  but  take  care  that  the  illumination  in  the  British 
Museum  be  of  your  date,  for  there  is  not  one  copy  of  Froissart 
there  that  is: 

Truly  yours, 

Saml.  Mevuick. 

From  Sir  Samuel  Meyi!ick. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Goodrich  Court,  7th  February,  1813. 

You  have  acted  a  hazardous  part  in  encouraging  me  to 
write,  now  you  have  taught  me  how  to  get  such  pretty  sketches. 
Nothing  can  be  better  than  the  last  you  have  sent  me,  and  if 
you  like  you  can  put  on  John  a  short  cloak  that  would  float 
away  behind,  as  you  will  find  an  authority  for  the  same  in 
Montfaucon.  As  he  appears  not  so  much  a  prisoner  as  an 
honoured  guest,  his  head  should  have  some  covering,  as  a  light 
hood,  or  a  cap  with  a  single  feather  (ostrich),  put  upright  in 
the  front,  and  bent  back  by  the  wind.  In  this  last  sketch  of 
the  Black  Prince  you  have  obviated  my  objection  about  the 
camail,  and  the  positions  of  both  horse  and  rider  are  spirited  in 
the  extreme.  John  was  at  this  period  aged  thirty-eight  and 
the  Black  Prince  twenty-seven. 

How  capitally  you  have  given  the  idea  of  the  head  of  the 
horse  for  John !  and  you  have  very  correctly  ornamented  his 
bridle.  There  is  a  fine  noble  dignity  that  exactly  coincides 
with  what  you  have  written. 


43? 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


I  can  give  you  no  idea  of  a  City  Emblem.  The  banner  of 
the  citizens  was  St.  George's  Cross  without  the  sword  in  the  first 
quarter,  which,  as  you  know,  was  added  in  the  ensuing  reign. 

As  yours  is  a  grand  procession,  and  not  a  hunting  match, 
there  would  be  no  impropriety  in  putting  the  French  kin"-  in 
shoes  instead  of  boots.  The  custom  of  so  riding  on  grand  oc- 
casions was  continued  to  a  much  later  period. 

Both  your  figures  should  have  the  dagger  at  the  girdle.  See 
Stothard's  'Monumental  Effigies'  for  the  mode  of  suspending  it. 

I  don't  know  whether  or  not  the  directions  of  the  funeral 
procession  of  the  Black  Prince,  given  by  himself  in  his  last 
Will,  may  be  of  any  use  to  you ;  but  they  seem  to  me  so  very 
curious  that  I  hazard  their  insertion.  Of  course,  the  armorial 
bearings  of  peace  you  cannot  introduce,  they  being  intended 
only  for  the  tournament. 

"  And  we  will  see  that  two  coursers,  covered  with  our  arms, 
and  two  men,  armed  in  our  arms  and  in  our  helmets  "  (one  for 
the  tournament  and  the  other  for  war),  "  shall  go  before  our 
said  body :  that  is  to  say,  the  one  for  war  with  our  arms 
quartered,  and  the  other  for  peace  with  our  badges  of  ostrich 
feathers,  with  four  banners  of  the  same  suit:  and  that  every 
one  of  those  who  bear  the  said  banners  shall  have  a  chapeau  of 
our  arms,  and  that  he  who  shall  be  armed  for  war  shall  have  a 
man  armed  bearing  after  him  a  black  pennon  with  ostrich 
feathers." 

I  remain,  truly  yours, 

Saml.  Meyiuck. 

P.S. — I  am  a  good  deal  of  the  opinion  you  express, "  au  secret, 
mais  nous  verrons." 

From  Sir  Samuel  Meyiuck. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Goodrich  Court,  11th  February,  1843. 

I  was  about  to  thank  you  for  your  very  clever  and 
spirited  sketch,  and  to  assure  you  that  no  one  should  see  it, 
when  your  letter  of  the  7th  was  put  into  my  hand.  It  appears 
to  me  that  you  are  quite  at  liberty  to  dress  the  figures  either 
in  the  garments  of  peace  or  war,  as  best  suits  your  composition, 
and  the  authority  you  mention  for  John  of  France  seems  the 
very  best  possible.    It  may  be  worth  your  while  to  look  into 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


439 


Johne's  translation  of  Froissart,  as  Turner  quotes  him  alone, 
chap,  clxxiii.  pp.  368-70,  though  I  have  examined  the  French 
original  in  vain.  It  is  Lingarcl  who  gives  Murimuth  and 
Knighton  as  his  authorities. 

I  am  not  surpri  ed  that  you  have  found  in  Lord  Willoughby's 
stud  a  horse  to  yuur  purpose,  for  I  remember  some  years  back 
he  used  to  drive  a  splendid  animal  in  his  cab  that  had  quite 
the  character  of  a  fine  charger.  The  moment  my  eyes  met  your 
speaking  sketch,  the  idea  flashed  on  my  mind  that  the  cartoon 
was  intended  for  the  new  Parliament  House.  I  am  glad  to  find 
my  conjecture  realised,  as  I  now  know  that  there  will  at  least 
be  one  good  picture  for  posterity.  Last  year  I  was  at  Versailles 
to  view  the  historic  series  there  so  much  boasted  of.  I  saw 
nothing  of  the  first  class ;  some  pretty  good,  and  the  rest 
colour  and  canvas.  In  May  I  hope  to  be  in  London,  and 
should  my  time  admit,  will  have  the  pleasure  of  calling  upon 
you.    May  I  take  the  liberty  ? 

The  camail  is  far  more  picturesque  as  you  have  drawn  it 
than  as  represented  on  the  monumental  effigies.  In  these  it 
seems  to  form  an  unnatural  line,  but  I  take  it  there  was 
buckram  within,  as  then  the  space  between  it  and  the  neck 
would  allow  it  to  give  with  a  cut,  and  thus  be  less  likely  to  be 
severed.    Can't  you  do  something  between  ? 

Depend  on  it,  there  is  much  more  general  interest  in  subjects 
of  the  Middle  Ages'  than  in  those  of  classic  times.  All  people 
are  not  acquainted  with  the  latter,  and  the  costume  varies  but 
little,  though  I  admit  all  you  say  of  the  naked  in  works  of  art. 

In  any  historic  event  connected  with  Scotland  you  have  as 
great  an  advantage  as  if  you  copied  from  the  Roman  Legion- 
aries. So  with  the  Ancient  Britons;  and  this  makes  me 
wonder  that  the  'Landing  of  Julius  Ca?sar,'  so  picturesquely 
described  by  himself,  has  never  been  sketched  for  the  easel. 
This  should  be  the  commencement  of  our  historic  series. 

I  beg  you  will  apply  to  me  whenever  you  think  I  can  be 
of  service,  for  this  is  the  only  way  I  can  hope  to  benefit  the 
art  of  which  I  am  passionately  fond,  and  if,  in  a  more  genial 
season  of  the  year,  you  wish  to  paint  from  actual  armour,  the 
collection  here,  I  think,  you  will  not  find  of  less  value  than 
that  in  the  Tower. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Sir, 

Saml.  Meykick. 


-140 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


To  his  Sister,  Mrs.  Haviland. 

12th  July,  1843. 

I  assure  you  the  cartoons  are  an  honour  to  the  country 
and  to  the  British  School.  But  the  '  Landing  of  Caesar,'  by 
Armitage,*  is  a  glaring  instance  of  defective  proportion  and 
drawing;  and  coming  from  the  French  School  is  extraordinary. 
The  English  now  decidedly  draw  better.  All  the  young  men 
ye&terday  crowded  about  me,  and  said,  "  This  is  your  doing" 
It  was  an  honour  to  their  hearts,  and  it  is  true,  for  to  no  man 
are  they  more  indebted  than  to  me. 

From  Charles  L.  Wigram,  on  the  Death  of  Rumdhr. 

SlR,  Dresden,  28th  July,  1843. 

I  address  these  few  lines  to  you,  believing  that  it  will 
bo  preferable  to  you  to  -hear  from  a  certain  source  the  intelli- 
gence of  the  death  of  a  person  in  whom  you  felt  interest, 
rather  than  read  it  in  the  newspapers. 

Baron  Kumohr  of  Lubec  expired  here  on  the  25th  inst. 

During  the  last  eighteen  months  I  was  in  an  almost  uninter- 
rupted exchange  of  friendly  intercourse  with  him,  and  read 
several  letters  from  you  addressed  to  him,  as  he  was  un- 
accustomed to  read  English  writing. 

His  disorder  was  water  on  the  chest.  Two  years  since  he 
had  a  fit  in  Copenhagen,  the  effects  of  which  greatly  impaired 
his  speech,  and  he  here  had  attacks  somewhat  similar,  but  from 
which  he  rallied  quickly.  Some  vexatious  circumstances, 
1  hough  trifling  in  themselves,  have  very  likely  accelerated  his 
death ;  he  had  much  vexation  about  a  house  he  had  purchased 
in  Lubec ;  and  in  Berlin,  where  he  was  part  of  last  winter,  the 
king  requested  his  opinion  of  some  purchases  made  in  Italy 
by  Dr.  Waagen. 

Rumour  took  me  with  him  to  see  them,  and  urged  me  to 
support  their  merit.  "Everyone  here  knows  you  have  been 
long  in  Italy,  and  will  value  what  you  say ;  remember  that  the 
thing  must  be  supported." 

*  Mr.  Aimitage  was  a  pupil  of  De  la  Roche,  and  according  to  my  father's 
account  was  purposely  brought  over  by  tlie  lato  Earl  of  Eilesinere  to  compete 
wiih  the  EnglL-h  students  —En. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


41  r 


It  is  certainly  singular  tliat  Dr.  Waagen  should  have  made 
such  incredible  mistakes ;  but  three  copies,  one  purchased  by 
him  as  an  original  Correggio  ;  the  copy  of  a  known  picture  by 
Rubens ;  another  copy  of  a  portrait  by  Rubens,  purchased  as  a 
Paul  Veronese  ;  and  a  copy  of  Claude  Lorraine  for  an  original, 
are  among  the  number. 

Besides  which,  with  the  exception  of  very  few  indeed,  Dr. 
Waagen's  purchases  by  no  means  merited  a  place  in  the 
Museum,  or  indeed  in  anj7  collection  of  merit. 

Rumohr  was  much  vexed  that  he  could  not  meet  the  wishes 
of  the  king  by  upholding  them,  and  he  left  Berlin. 

He  came  hither  on  his  way  to  Toplitz,  where,  after  six 
weeks'  discomfort  rather  than  severe  suffering,  he  expired  sud- 
denly on  the  25th  July.    His  age  was  about  6J. 

I  first  made  his  acquaintance  here  about  twelve  years  since. 

The  impression  I  had  received,  from  what  was  said  about 
him,  was  that  his  religious  principles  were  those  of  infidelity. 
A  long  conversation  which  I  had  with  him  in  Lubec,  I  am 
thankful  to  say,  satisfied  my  mind  on  this  point.  He  never 
concealed  his  opinion  when  asked,  and  if  he  spoke  the  con- 
viction of  his  mind  on  this  point  he  was  decidedly  a  Christian 
in  the  true  acceptation  of  the  word. 

I  have  intruded  longer  on  you  than  I  purposed.  Pray  accept 
my  excuses,  and 

Believe  me,  Sir,  <vc, 

Charles  L.  Wig  ram. 

From  the  Secretary  of  Lord  Nelson. 

DEAR  SlR,  Brighton,  llth  October,  1843. 

I  shall  be  most  happy  to  give  you  all  the  information 
in  my  power  relative  to  the  Copenhagen  affair,  especially  the 
circumstances  attending  that  important  event,  the  sending  on 
shore  in  the  midst  of  the  action  Lord  Nelson's  celebrated  note 
addressed  to  the  "  Brothers  of  Englishmen,  the  Danes." 

Lord  Nelson  wrote  the  note  at  the  casing  of  the  rudder  head, 
and  as  he  wrote  I  took  a  copy,  both  of  us  standing.  The 
original  was  put  in  an  envelope  and  sealed  with  his  arms.  At 
first  I  was  going  to  secure  it  with  a  wafer,  but  he  would  not 
allow  this  to  be  done,  observing  that  it  "  must  be  sealed,"  or 


442 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


the  enemy  "  would  think  it  was  written  and  sent  on  shore  in  a 
hurry."  The  man  I  sent  below  for  a  light  never  returned, 
having  been  killed  on  his  way. 

To  the  best  of  my  recollection  the  admiral  wore  a  plain, 
blue,  sort  of  great  coat,  without  epaulettes  or  gold  lace,  but  on 
his  breast  were  his  several  orders,  and  he  wore  a  plain  cocked- 
hat. 

Civilians  in  those  days  were  not  required  to  wear  a  uniform. 
My  dress  was  a  plain  blue  coat,  blue  trousers,  with  a  white 
kerseymere  waistcoat. 

The  decks,  as  you  observe,  were  perfectly  clear  fore  and  aft, 
and  the  place  where  the  note  was  written  was  on  the  extreme 
after  part  of  the  ship.  Captain  Foley  commanded  the 
'  Elephant.'  Captain  Thesiger,  to  the  best  of  my  remembrance 
held  no  command,  but  was  merely  a  volunteer  on  board  Sir 
Hyde  Parker's  flag-ship,  and  in  consequence  of  his  knowledge 
of  Copenhagen  and  the  Danish  language  he  was  considered  the 
fittest  officer  to  be  entrusted  with  the  flag  of  truce. 

I  shall  be  very  glad  to  see  you  on  Wednesday,  and  shall  be 
delighted  to  give  you  any  further  information. 

I  am,  dear  Sir, 

Thus.  Wallis. 

From  Haydon  au  I\£dacteur  du  '  Journal  des  Dehats.' 
Monsieur, 

L'article  de  M.  Delescluze  sur  la  grande  composition  de 
M.  Delaroche  au  Palais  des  Beaux-Arts  a  vivement  fixe  mon 
attention.  L'auteur  est  un  homme  de  beaucoup  de  talent,  et 
ses  remarques  sur  l'etat  de  l'art  en  France  sont  egalement 
applicables  a  l'art  en  Angleterre.  II  deplore  avec  raison  qu'a 
Paris  les  jeunes  gens  soient  tous  des  maitres  isoles  et  indepen- 
dants  do  tout  controle,  et  que  l'usage  de  cinq  on  six  chefs 
guidant  et  dirigeant  des  ecoles  soit  tombe  en  desuetude,  de 
sortc  qu'il  n'y  a  plus  dans  la  decoration  des  edifices  publics 
cette  unite  qui  regnait  autrefois  dans  ces  travaux  quand  i!s 
avaient  une  seule  direction. 

L'ouvrage  recent  de  M.  Delaroche  est  une  exception.  Je 
connais  bien  le  genie  de  ce  peintre  et  l'admire  beaucoup, 
ayant  souvent  vu  les  deux  tableaux  qu'il  a  points  pour  le  Due 
de  Sutherland  et  Lord  Egerton.    J'espere  aller  voir  bientot  sa 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


44-3 


nouvelle  ceuvre  au  Palais  cles  Beaux- Arts.  D'apres  l'examen 
que  j'en  ai  lu  dans  votre  journal,  je  prends  la  liberty  sans 
pretendre  imposer  mon  opin'on  a  vos  lectenrs,  de  remarquer 
qu'a  mon  avis  M.  Delamche  a  ete  injuste  en  placant  Apelles 
sur  le  trone  et  Phidias  a  son  cote. 

Le  grand  peintre  monumental  de  la  Grece  etait  Polygnotos, 
et  non  Apelles.  Apelles  etait  le  Titien  et  non  pas  le  Baphael 
de  son  temps.  Ses  ouvrages  etaient  des  figures  et  des  portraits 
parfaitenn  nt  finis,  mais  non  de  grandes  ceuvres  nationales 
comme  le  Vatican.  Apelles  etait  le  precurseur  de  la  de'cadence, 
comme  Test  toujoursun  talent  aussi  acheve.  Polygnotos  a  ete  le 
grand  inventeur,  le  grand  compositeur  epique :  il  a  peiut  un 
cycle  a  Delphes,  un  antre  a  Thesp'es,  le  Poidile  et  les  Propylecs 
a  Athenes.  Le  conseil  des  Amphictyons  avuit  de  rete  qu'il  seiait 
entn  tenuauxfrais  flu  peuple  et  il  offrit  gratuitement  ses  oeuvres 
a  son  pays.  C'etait  un  genie  digne  de  Phidias :  c'etait  la 
1'homme  qui  devait  etre  mis  sur  le  trone,  et  non  pas  Apelles, 
un  peintre  de  portraits  fashionaliles,  qui  composait  dt  s  Venus, 
mais  qui  n'etait  pas  un  cieateur  fecond  dans  le  grand  style. 

Je  me  permets  done  de  protester  contre  l'injustice  faite  a 
Polygnotos  par  un  lion  me  aussi  eminent  que  Delaroehe, 
esperant  que  vous  voudrez  bien  donner  ]>lace  a  ma  piot>  station 
dans  votre  journal. 

B.  E.  Haydon. 

Un  arti>te  eminmt,  qui  tient  le  premier  rang  parmi  les 
peintres  en  Angleterre,  M.  Haydon,  nous  adresse,,  au  sujet  du 
beau  travail  que  M.  Paul  Dtlaroche  vient  de  te: miner  au 
Palais  cles  Beaux-Arts,  les  observations  precedentes,  que  nous 
nous  sommes  empresses  de  reproduire. 

To  Ms  Son  Fkederic,  H.M.S.  'Penelope* 

MY  DEAB  FKEDERIC,  I-ondon,  14th  March,  1844. 

You  must  never  believe  in  the  "  croakers."  There  are 
plenty  of  them  in  every  profession.  In  the  army  and  navy 
they  seem  to  abound.  A  certain  class  of  men  could  not  exist 
without  "croaking."  I  have  lived  in  the  world  now  more 
than  half  a  century,  and  I  never  remember  any  period  of  my 
life  at  which  I  was  not  assured  by  these  people  that  England 
had  seen  her  best  days,  and  her  decline  had  set  in.    My  dear 


4M 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


boy,  if  you  live  another  fifty  years  you  will  hear  the  same 
story  constantly  repeated,  and  you  will  see  what  I  see,  your 
glorious  country  higher  and  greater  than  ever.  The  sun  of 
England  is  only  just  rising  above  the  horizon.  The  fools,  to 
think  that  because  of  some  passing  cloud  the  glory  of  England 
was  to  set !  The  people  of  England  are  the  greatest  people  on 
earth ;  and  in  proportion  as  they  acquire  knowledge  and 
skill,  they  will  improve  their  machinery  and  appliances,  extend 
their  commerce,  and  increase  their  capital.  England  is  wealthy 
and  numerous  now.  In  fifty  years  her  wealth  and  numbers 
will  be  quadrupled.  You  have  no  conception  of  the  energy 
and  enterprise  of  the  great  nation  to  which  you  belong,  and  of 
the  vast  future  before  it. 

There  are  many  dangers  I  admit ;  but  by  giving  the  people 
a  sound  education  and  training — and  by  the  people  I  mean  the 
nobility  and  middle  classes  quite  as  much  as  the  working 
classes,  for  if  anything  the  nobility  want  it  most — we  may 
escape  them.  But  never  despair  of  your  country.  Progress 
is  slow ;  but  provided  it  be  not  checked  by  foolish  laws  or  too 
many  laws,  it  is  certain  to  advance  in  the  right  direction.  The 
only  things  I  see  likely  to  inflict  injury  upon  us  are  the  neglect 
of  sound  education,  and  the  giving  political  power  to  the 
people  before  they  are  prepared  to  receive  it.  If  ever  that  be 
done,  you  will  have  trouble  in  England  for  a  period,  and 
perhaps  a  great  struggle.  The  fierce  democratic  hatred  of 
superiority,  which  lies  hid  beneath  the  surface  of  their  labour 
in  the  hearts  of  the  working  classes,  may  some  day,  if  not 
wisely  provided  for  by  education,  bring  about  a  state  of  things 
which  I  do  not  like  to  think  of.  But  yet  there  is  in  the 
English  people  such  a  solid  substratum  of  good  sense,  that 
follies  of  that  kind  would  soon  work  their  own  cure.  But  pre- 
vention is  better  than  cure. 

You  are  quite  right  to  read  history;  make  yourself  master 
of  the  histories  of  Greece  and  Borne.  The  English  people  are 
in  many  respects  not  unlike  the  Athenians  without  their  Art, 
and  like  the  Romans  without  their  profligacy.  Bead  your 
Bible  daily.  There  is  no  more  interesting  book  in  the  world ; 
and  it  is  becoming  more  necessary  to  read  it  and  study  it, 
because  I  already  perceive  a  tendency  among  our  scientific 
men,  in  all  their  pride  of  knowledge  and  what  they  call  dis- 
covery, to  set  the  Bible  aside  as  an  Oriental  legend.  Do 


PartraU  of  Haydons  Wife 
IH17 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


445 


not  believe  them.  The  Mosaic  account  of  the  Creation 
is  the  most  simple  and  the  most  natural,  and  will  be  found, 
you  may  rely  on  it, 'confirmed  by  science,  when  science  has 
got  down  to  the  real  facts.  Generalisation,  founded  on  our 
present  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  nature,  is  the  very  thing 
which  our  present  acquaintance  with  those  laws  does  not 
justify. 

1  am  convinced  that  no  thoroughly  established  and  settled 
scientific  theory  will  be  found  to  contradict  the  truths  revealed 
in  the  Bible.  But  you  are  too  young  yet  for  me  to  enter 
further  upon  this  subject.  1  only  tell  you  of  it  to  put  you  on 
your  guard.  You  will  find  many  men,  old  and  grown-up  men, 
who  will  laugh  at  the  Bible.  Don't  believe  them.  Mathe- 
matics are  all  very  well ;  but  the  differential  calculus,  my  dear 
boy,  can  never  prove  or  disprove  the  existence  of  God.  Bead 
your  Bible,  do  your  duty,  and  leave  the  rest  to  God. 

Ever  your  affectionate  father, 

B.  R.  Hayuon. 

To  Ms  Wife. 

Liverpool,  1st  April,  1844. 

Poor  old  Winstanley,  Dr.  Frekleton  and  others  when 
building  their  gallery  took  me  over  to  show  to  me  as  a  wonder- 
ful thing,  and  it  certainly  was,  for  they  had  so  placed  the  light, 
at  the  sides  instead  of  in  the  middle,  that  no  picture  could  ever 
be  seen.  I  pointed  this  defect  out  to  them  and  to  their  aichi- 
tpct,  but  he  laughed  at  my  objections,  fiuished  the  roof,  and 
brought  in  the  pictures.  Not  one  could  be  seen.  Ashamed  of 
his  blunder  and  of  spending  so  much  money,  they  applied  to 
me  for  a  plan  and  I  sketched  one  for  them  and  referred  them 
fuither  to  the  Borter  House  at  Rugby  as  the  true  method  of 
lighting  a  picture  gallery.  Three  hundred  pounds  more  were 
collected,  the  roof  altered  so  as  to  place  the  light  in  the  middle, 
and  now  the  pictures  are  seen  to  perfection. 

The  other  day  when  going  through  their  gallery  once  more 
to  see  the  effect  of  my  suggestions,  1  was  much  amused  to  hear 
first  one,  and  then  the  other,  boast  to  me  that  they  had  "always 
said  so,"  &c. 

It  is  the  same  at  Manchester  among  a  certain  set.  They 
actually  serve  up  my  own  lectures  to  me  as  their  own  original 


446 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


thoughts.  I  suppose  every  wr'ter  has  to  subm't  to  this  at 
t  in  s.  but  the  effect  at  first  is  startling:  you  doubt  your  own 
individuality  for  a  moment.  In  future'' I  will  communicate 
with  nobody  privately.  If  a  body  want  information,  the  body 
shall  apply  for  it.  Now  the  old  foxes  come  to  me  piivately, 
obtain  from  me  all  they  want,  and  then  bring  forward,  as  their 
own  plan,  that  whi -h  I  have  furnished  them  with. 

I  have  been  much  amused  to  see  that  som <>.  of  tlie-e  profound 
gentlemen  at  their  gallery  has  attributed  to  Guido  a  copy  of 
Raphael's  Venus  in  his  Cupid  and  Psyche.  I  shall  say  not  a  word, 
and  somebody  by-and-by  will  find  it  out,  and  their  profundity 
will  receive  a  fall.  This  is  unchristian,  but  I  really  cannot 
help  it. 

Extracts  from  Letters  to  his  Wife. 

Liverpool,  3rd  April,  1844. 
I  lodged  last  week  with  a  poor  widow  at  Manchester 
who  was  one  of  the  few  saved  from  the  wreck  of  the  '  Rothsay 
Castle  '  steamer  in  1831.*  Out  of  the  1M3  passengers  110 
were  drowned.  She  and  her  husband  got  fast  to  a  spar  with 
rigging  attached  to  it.  He  died  and  hung  entangled  in  the 
ropes,  and  for  eleven  hours  she  floated  about  in  the  sea  with 
his  dead  body  under  her  eyes.  She  was  at  last  rescued  by  a 
boat.  Do  you  not  recollect  the  case  ?  The  steamer  was  on  an 
excursion  to  the  Welsh  coast  with  a  party  of  pleasure.  If  you 
talk  to  her  about  it,  the  expression  of  her  face  becomes 
piercingly  keen,  as  if  she  saw  her  husband's  ghastly  corpse 
before  her.  She  says  she  saw  him  die  but  was  too  weak  to 
help  him.  His  body  was  taken  up  with  her.  She  says  she 
often  dreams  of  the  shriek  of  the  passengers  when  the  ship 
parted  in  two,  and  about  fifty  were  swept  under  at  once.  Good 
God,  what  an  awful  moment ! 

Manchester,  9th  April,  1844. 

Only  think  of  what  has  happened.  I  had  established 
here,  as  you  know,  a  school  of  design,  with  the  figure  as  the 
basis.  Some  time  since,  again  influenced  by  those  obstinate 
ignoramuses  in  London,  the  council  here  allowed  itself  to  be 

*  The  'Rothsay  Castle'  was  wrecked  on  Puffin  Island,  off  Beaumaris,  17th 
AugUft  1831.  (Since  this  \w\ck  a  lighthouse  had  been  constructed  on  the  S.W. 
front.— Ed, 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


447 


persualed  to  abolish  the  figure.  The  young  men  behaved 
admirably  well.  They  met  together,  subscribed,  and  continued 
the  figure  privately,  and  waited  for  my  coining  down.  Now 
that  I  have  arrived  they  have  brought  me  their  drawings, 
which  are  admirable  for  their  accuracy,  breadth  and  finish. 
This  is  going  on  like  the  early  Christians.  Persecution  like 
this  will  make  the  thing.  These  councils  and  pupils  are  doing 
here  what  is  being  done  by  councils  and  pupils  in  many  of  the 
great  towns  at  which  I  have  lectured.  Such  is  the  baneful  and 
mischievous  influenceof  that  blot  of  centralised  ignorance  in 
London,  the  moment  my  back  is  turned  they  seek  to  undo  all 
the  good  I  have  done.  But  if  the  young  men  only  remain  sound, 
and  continue  to  draw  the  figure,  those  gentlemen  in  London 
will  one  day  be  brought  to  acknowledge  their  error.  It  is 
pitiable  to  find  such  obstinacy  and  ignorance,  wilf id  intentional 
ignorance,  of  what  is  for  this  great  country's  good,  in  high 
places. 

To  R.  Greswell,  Esq. 

MY  DEAE  SlE,  London,  14th  April,  1841. 

Permit  me  to  congratulate  you  on  your  manly  speech 
at  the  Artists'  Fund  Dinner.  That  is  the  way  to  speak  out ;  you 
have  advanced  the  cause  immensely,  and  I  have  no  fear  of  its 
ultimate  success. 

I  remain,  my  dear  Sir,  yours  respectfully, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

To  Chaeles  Baeey. 

My  DEAE  BAEEY,  London,  26th  April,  1844. 

I  have  seen  the  octagon  room,  the  robing  room, 
corridor,  and  all  the  rooms  and  halls  rising  up  where  brick 
preparations  for  frescoes  were  being  made,  and  I  wish  to  state 
to  you  my  opinion  as  follows : — 

1.  It  must  be  admitted  that  all  fresco  decorations  should  look 
as  if  they  had  been  conceived  by  the  architect  when  he  first 
designed  his  plan,  and  not  as  if  subsequently  invented  and 
forced  in. 

2.  The  boundary  of  each  fresco  decoration  should  be  the 


448 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


actual  architectural  boundary  of  the  space,  and  not  an  arbitrary- 
division,  which  is  not  necessarily  a  part  of  the  building,  and 
should  be  able  to  exist  as  a  component  part,  if  decoration  were 
absent  altogether. 

3.  It  must  be  admitted  that  fresco  decoration  should  look 
as  much  a  portion  of  the  building  as  the  columns  on  the 
stone. 

These  are  my  three  leading  points  in  the  admission  of  fresco 
in  any  building — Gothic,  Greek,  Italian,  or  Byzantine. 

The  moment  frescoes  are  made  square,  or  upright,  or  circular, 
or  angular,  unless  each  shape  is  an  actual  part  of  the  archi- 
tectural plan,  they  look  not  like  decorative  portions,  but  like 
pictures  in  a  gallery. 

On  this  ground  I  objected  to  Nash's  drawings  of  the  entrance 
chamber,  where  a  series  of  small  square  frescoes  took  away 
entirely  all  idea  of  commeniorat.ve  design.  Now  pray,  my 
dear  Sir,  get  rid  of  all  shapes  which  are  not  flat  portions  under 
pointed  arches,  and  bounded  by  them.  Spaces  regulated  only 
by  the  actual  shape  of  the  actual  arch  give  a  grand  air  of 
series,  and  would  give  a  spring  to  the  design  of  the  country. 
But,  be  assured,  unless  all  your  spaces  for  fresco  be  enlarged  by 
heightening,  as  it  is  impossible  to  widen,  you  will  be  dis- 
appointed in  the  result  and  so  will  the  country.* 

Now,  remember,  I  am  cursed  with  the  gift  of  prophecy,  and 
the  attendant  curse  of  never  being  believed  till  it  is  too  late. 

Truly  yours, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

To  R.  Gresswell,  Esq. 

Mr  DEAR  SlR,  London,  27th  April,  1844. 

If  I  had  waited  for  "the  hearty  concurrence  of  the 
Royal  Academy "  what  would  have  become  of  the  Elgin 
Marbles?  What  of  decoration  of  the  Houses?  What  of 
Schools  of  Design? 

No,  my  clear  Sir,  you  must  do  what  is  wanted  in  spite  of  the 
"  hearty  opposition  "  of  that  body,  or  you  will  do  nothing. 

The  Roynl  Academy,  as  it  is  constituted,  ever  has  been,  and 
ever  will  be,  a  millstone  round  the  neck  of  the  people  and  the 

*  This  prediction  has  certainly  been  verified. — Ed. 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


449 


nobility  of  this  country,  and  a  stubborn  and  perverse  obstruc- 
tion to  the  advance  of  High  Art. 

I  am,  dear  Sir,  truly  yours, 

B.  R.  Haydox. 

To  Eastlake. 

MY  DEAR  EASTLAKE,  London,  8th  May,  1S44. 

One  arch  of  the  Royal  Exchange  is  done.  Sang  has 
gone  to  Munich  to  bring  over  a  host.  His  assistant  re- 
mains behind  at  work,  frescoing  the  second  arch,  with  three 
pupils. 

If  they  had  known  me  I  should  have  been  thrown  over. 
The  work  is  hideous,  and  the  Exchange  will  be  one  large  and 
varied  Turkey  carpet.* 

In  the  walk  of  the  Exchange  there  are  flat  spaces  10  feet  by 
6,  where  might  have  been  painted  in  fresco  a  series  of  beautiful 
designs  illustrating  our  great  commercial  rise  and  prosperity. 
All  will  now  be  dotted  with  galvanised  squares,  spasmodic 
angles,  and  sickly  flowers. 

If  this  man  only  knew  the  forms  of  men,  animals,  and  plants, 
he  might  be  a  reasonable  decorator. 

Owing  to  the  influence  of  exhibitions  the  old  connection 
between  artist,  sculptor,  and  architect  is  gone  out.  The 
artist  is  no  longer  thought  of  as  a  public  character.  He  is 
never  required  to  give  in  his  estimates  like  the  two  other 
professions,  and  when  he  is  employed,  it  is  as  a  mechanic. 

I  fear  your  official  position  precludes  that  spirit  and  search- 
ing alertness  which  is  necessary  to  save  the  profession  from 
being  the  laughing-stock  of  Europe ;  but  I  beg  to  say,  if 
I  had  been  in  your  position,  no  German,  without  vigorous 
opposition,  should  have  profaned  the  walls  of  the  Royal 
Exchange. 

It  is  lamentable. 

I  am,  my  dear  Eastlake,  ever  yours, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

*  "When  it  was  proposed  to  the  Committee  of  the  Royal  Exchange  to  decorate 
the  Wiills  by  a  srries  of  pictures  in  fresco,  illustrating  tue  rise  and  progress  of  our 
Commerce,  their  reply  was,  "  We  don't  want  a  picture  gallery."— Ed. 

VOL.  L  2  G 


45o 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


Extract  from  a  Letter  of  Gibson. 

London,  20th  May,  1814. 

...  It  is  now  twenty-seven  years  since  I  waited  upon  you  on 
my  way  to  Rome.  There  I  have  been  always  learning  and 
practising  my  Art,  surrounded  by  powerful  rivals  from  different 
nations.  This  is  my  first  visit  to  England  since  my  departure, 
and  for  several  days  I  have  been  on  the  point  of  paying  my 
respects  to  you. 

I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  going  to  see  your  eel  brat ed 
pictures  to-morrow,  and  then  .1  shall  have  the  pleasure  of 
waiting  on  you. 

.Believe  me,  truly  yours, 

Joun  Gibson. 

From  Lord  Hardwjck. 

Buckingham  Palace,  5th  June,  1S44. 

I  find  the  Emperor  (Nicolas)  is  so  pressed  on  all  sides  in 
various  ways,  which,  together  with  the  short  time  he  remains 
in  this  country,  that  1  am  unwilling  to  interfere  in  any 
way.  But  I  venture  to  throw  out  the  idea  to  you  that  Baron 
Brnnnow  or  Count  Orloff  would  be  very  j, roper  persons  to 
apply  to. 

Boron  Brunnow  is  at  Ashbnrton  House,  and  Count  Orloff  in 
the  Palace. 

Yours,  &c, 

Hardwick.* 

From  the  Duke  of  Devonshire. 

Sir,  12th  June,  1S44. 

I  am  sorry  that  I  cannot  comply.  You  well  know  that 
I  am  not  desirous  of  augmenting  my  collection  of  pictures,  and 
I  decline,  with  much  regret,  but  decidedly,  to  authorise  the 
execution  of  your  attractive  idea.   As  I  would  rather  you  should 

*  Tim  Emperor  Nicolas  while  visiting  (lie  Duke  of  Devonshire  at  Chiswick 
held  a  Court  under  the  crdar-tree  nenr  the  house.  Haydnn,  who  was  present, 
struck  with  the  heautv  of  the  scene,  asked  leave  of  the  Duke  to  paint  it.  The 
Duke  of  Devonshire  being  a  Whig,  and  by  way  of  being  a  friend  to  the  Poles, 
appears  to  have  thought  Havdou's  view  of  the  "  attractive  idea,"  a  little  incon- 
venient.—Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


45' 


not  execute  the  scene  you  propose  I  must  refuse  to  give  any 
facilities  towards  it. 

Believe  me,  yours,  &c, 

Devonshire. 

From  Bell,  the  Sculptor. 

DEAR  PlR,  Hopton,  Great  Yaimouth,  5th  July,  1844. 

I  feel  most  gratified  at  your  exceeding  high  p raise  (my 
statue)  of  '  Jane  Shore.'  '  Laudari  a  laudato  viro '  is  a  great 
honour,  and  I  well  know  the  value  of  your  approbation  ;  and 
forgive  me  if  I  say  also  that  I  am  much  gratified  by  the  kind- 
ness and  liberality  which  has  induced  you  to  let  me  know  of  it 
in  your  own  handwriting. 

Art  should  have  its  freemasonry,  but  it  is  not  in  every  case 
we  find  it  felt.  I  assure  you  my  own  feeling  on  placing  the 
'  Jane  Shore '  in  the  hall  was  that  of  disappointment,  for  I 
thought  neither  the  light  or  position  suited  it,  and  this  feeling 
I  retained  until  I  received  your  letter.  I  cannot  very  well  say 
what  my  price  is  for  it,  as  I  have  no  safe-mould  of  it,  and  I 
make  it  a  rule  never  to  part  with  my  original  models. 

I  hope  I  may  have  the  pleasure  of  making  your  acquaintance 
on  my  return  to  London.  I  must  claim,  however,  that  of 
having  been  once  in  your  house,  on  which  occasion  I  accom- 
panied my  excallent  friend  Du  Bois,  who  suggested  to  me  the 
subject  of  the  statue  you  do  me  the  honour  of  approving. 

Although  now  in  the  country  on  a  most  sorrowful  mission, 
your  letter  has  been  a  gleam  of  sunshine. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be,  dear  Sir, 

Yours  sincerely, 

John  Bell. 

From  (Sir)  W.  Tite. 

MY  DEAR  SlR,  New  Roy^l  Exchange,  9th  July,  184 1. 

I  am  asked  to  give  the  committee  some  notion  of  the 
cost  of  decorating  the  panels  of  the  merchant's  area  with  fresco 
paintings.  I  really  never  felt  myself  more  embarrassed  with 
such  a  question.  Could  you  help  me  at  all  in  it  ?  You  have 
seen  the  size  of  the  panels.  Of  course  they  would  require  a 
rich  fresco  border,  and  then  a  picture  inside.    If  you  could 


452 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


think  of  this,  and  give  me  your  opinion,  you  would  greatly 
oblige. 

Yours  very  truly, 

Wm.  Tite. 

To  (Sir)  William  Tite. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  London,  11th  July,  1844. 

I  have  always  entertained  the  conviction  that  historical 
fresco  decoration  was  essential  to  the  completion  of  the  Royal 
Exchange.  There  are  twenty-four  large  spaces  and  eight  smaller 
ones.  The  large  ones  might  be  filled  with  a  beautiful  series 
of  frescoes  illustrative  of  our  rise  from  the  earliest  to  the  latest 
period  of  commercial  greatness.  The  smaller  might  contain 
portraits  in  chiaro-oscuro  of  the  greatest  men  who  have  contri- 
buted to  that  rise.  The  whole  series  might  be,  like  the  build- 
ing and  the  ceiling,  under  the  direction  of  one  man  and  his 
assistants,  as  abroad ;  but  if  other  artists  have  to  share,  they 
should  be  constrained  within  their  respective  boundaries  to 
carry  out  their  part  only  of  one  great  consistent  object,  and 
every  subject  they  paint  on  that  side  should  first  be  approved 
by  committee  and  architect  as  part  of  the  original  scheme. 

Unless  this  be  made  a  positive  law,  confusion  and  failure 
would  be  the  result. 

With  respect  to  the  estimate,  it  may  be  not  possible  to  be 
correct  within  100Z.  But  if  one  man  only  has  the  direction  he 
could  certainly  accomplish  the  whole  without  loss  for  3500Z., 
the  architect  supplying  the  two  first  coats  of  mortar. 

To  conclude :  b'5U0Z.  would  prevent  any  man  who  undertook 
the  whole  from  losing ;  4000/.  would  put  500Z.  into  his  pocket, 
and  500UZ.  would  enable  him  to  put  by  something  for  his  old 
age.    I  would  be  delighted  to  undertake  it  for  3500/. 

I  am,  dear  Sir,  yours, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

From  (Sir)  William  Tite. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  New  Royal  Exchange,  16th  July,  1844. 

The  cost  of  the  frescoes  staggered  the  gentlemen  who 
had  talked  to  me  about  it,  and  it  was  impossible  to  do  anything 
with  it. 

The  matter  must,  I  fear,  stand  over  for  the  present ;  and  I 


B.  R.  HA  YDON. 


453 


hope  that  when  opened,  public  feeling  and  a  public  purse  may- 
enable  me  to  bring  the  subject  forward  again  with  a  better 
chance  of  success  than  at  present. 

I  arn,  my  dear  Sir,  &c, 

Wm,  The. 

From  William  Lockhart. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  London,  25th  July. 

I  saw  the  Cartoon  Collection  yesterday  for  the  first  time, 
and  certainly  have  a  perfect  conviction  that  yours  are  among 
the  works  which  should  have  been  rewarded,  nay,  that  they 
ought  to  have  had  some  of  the  highest  rewards. 

There  could  have  been  no  doubt  whose  they  were ;  and  I 
really  cannot  guess  why  they  were  passed  over,  unless  the 
judges  conceived  them  to  be  mainly  pieces  of  plagiarism,  in 
which  guess,  if  they  made  it,  I  feel  sure  they  were  quite 
mistaken.  I  am  truly  grieved  at  the  result.  I  thought  the 
'  Caesar '  prize  cartoon  very  bad ;  not  to  be  named  in  the  same 
day  as  the  '  Caractacus,'  'The  Jury  Trial,'  or  your  'Black 
Prince.'  I  am  very  sorry  you  have  not  one  of  the  first  prizes, 
which  I  humbly  think  was  your  due. 

Ever  yours  truly, 

Wm.  Lock  hart. 


To  (Sir)  W.  Tite,  on  the  completion  of  the  Royal  Exchange. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  London,  29th  October,  1844. 

I  congratulate  you,  with  all  my  heart,  on  the  successful 
termination  of  all  your  anxieties. 

I  could  have  wished  a  series  of  grand  designs  a  little  more 
intellectual  than  mere  decoration ;  but,  however,  the  whole 
thing  is  a  step,  and  if  we  lay  the  foundation  for  a  subsequent 
generation  to  make  another,  that  is  something. 

I  have  only  now  one  anxiety.  Don't  compromise  your  high 
position  by  ever  joining  the  Eoyal  Academy,  or  sacrifice  the 
principles  of  independent  Art  which  you  have  so  gloriously 
carried  through. 

I  am,  my  dear  Sir,  truly  yours, 

E.  E.  Ha ydon. 


454 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  George  Combe. 

My  de  \e  Mr  Haydox, 

Accept  of  my  best  thanks  for  your  1 Lectures  on  Painting 
and  Design,'  which  I  received,  last  week.  They  form  a 
highly  valuable  contribution  to  the  philosophy  of  Art,  and  I 
have  no  doubt,  to  the  practice  of  it  also,  although  on  this 
point  it  does  not  become  me  to  speak.  Your  fundamental 
principles,  admirably  well  represented  in  your  two  preliminary 
skeletons,  seem  to  me  unquestionably  sound.  It  has  made  a 
great  and  valuable  addition  to  my  own  stock  of  principles,  an- 
nounced in  the  two  letters  which  I  sent  you,  and  I  wish  that  I 
was  again  in  Venice,  Florence,  and  Rome,  with  your  book  in  my 
hand  and  in  my  head.  But  has  not  your  pupil,  who  drew  the 
human  skeleton,  Plate  A,  brought  the  hind  part  of  the  skull  too 
low  ?  Look  at  the  point  of  insertion  of  the  jaw,  and  at  the  hole 
of  the  ear  in  a  skull ;  there  is  no  brain  in  general  below  these, 
and  I  should  say  more  rarely  still  does  it  descend  so  low  as  in 
your  pupil's  figure.  I  notice  this  error  because  the  mistake  is  fre- 
quently made  by  artists,  and  from  the  very  same  cause  to  which 
you  so  emphatically  allude  in  treating  of  the  muscles,  viz.,  their 
not  knowing  the  function  of  the  part.  They  do  not  dream  of 
the  mental  character  which  they  are  communicating  to  their 
figure  when  they  bring  down,  preposterously,  the  hind  head. 

With  your  criticisms  on  Michel  Angclo  I  completely  agree. 
Your  criticism  on  his  4  Moses,'  page  137,  is  the  identical 
counterpart  of  what  I  uttered  as  I  stood  before  the  statue,  aud 
what  I  wrote  in  my  journal  when  I  returned  to  the  house. 
Your  remark,  on  the  same  page,  that  "  all  the  naked  heroes  of 
the  ancients  look  like  gentlemen  stripped,"  is  equally  true  in 
fact  and  in  philosophy,  and  in  felicity  of  expression  is  excel- 
lent. They  are  gentlemen  stripped,  i.e.  they  have  the  brains 
and  mental  qualities  of  gentlemen,  and  their  forms  and  propor- 
tions are  in  perfect  harmony  with  their  brains  (saving  always  a 
few  individual  exceptions). 

The  criticism  in  p.  150,  that  Michel  Angelo  "could  not 
select  the  essential  from  the  accidental,"  is  most  true.  I  doubted 
my  own  judgment  when  I  first  saw  Michel  Angelo's  works, 
and  went  back  again  and  again,  and  examined  them  minutely, 
and  then  wrote  their  condemnation  in  the  particulars  to  which 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


45  5 


you  allude,  with  the  firmest  conviction  that  time  would 
sanction  the  opinion.  Your  judgment,  therefore,  gives  me  the 
assurance  that  I  was  not  deluded  by  ignorance  or  stupidity, 
which  for  long  I  really  feared. 

Your  remarks  on  pp.  302-3,  on  '  The  Last  Judgment,'  are 
also  so  admirable  that  I  must  indulge  my  own  vanity,  and  try 
your  patience  by  quoting  from  my  own  journal  under  date 
Eome,  16th  Feb.,  1S44. — "  Visited  the  Sistine  Chapel  in  bright 
sunshine,  ascended  into  the  gallery,  and  examined  Michel 
Angelo's  paintings.  Intellectual  power,  and  a  wild  grandeur 
of  style  alone  carry  these  works  down  the  stream  of  time  with 
reputation,  and  communicate  to  them  interest.  'The  Last 
Judgment '  is,  to  my  taste,  a  collection  of  horrors.  Christ  has 
the  abdomen  of  a  woman  who  has  had  ten  children,  aud  a  large 
thorax,  with  a  low  angry  expression  of  countenance,  and  in 
attitude  is  sending  the  '  Damned  to  Hell.'  The  scene  is  said 
to  be  sublime  and  awful.  It  is  a  proof  how  near  the  sublime 
comes  to  the  ridiculous.  It  is  genius,  wasting  itself  in  a  base 
alliance  with  the  propensities." 

Your  criticism  on  the  '  Fallen  Angels  '  is  equally  just.  But 
my  doubt  is  whether  the  whole  conception  of  '  Fallen  Angels ' 
is  not  philosophically  absurd.  A  being  fit  for  heaven  can  have 
no  propensities  to  convert  him  into  a  devil.  If  you  (with 
Milton)  give  the  devil  the  propensities  and  intellect  plus,  and 
the  moral  sentiments  minus,  he  was  a  devil  ab  initio ;  and  if 
with  such  endowments  he  had  existed  in  the  human  form  he 
would  have  borne  the  stamp  of  an  animal  =  intellectual  man, 
a  finer  Hercules,  but  never  have  exhibited  the  pure,  elevated 
beauty,  in  form  and  proportions,  of  a  moral  intellectual  being. 

Your  own  excellent  remarks  on  "  everything  represented  in 
nature  having  a  style  of  its  own,"  p.  189,  apply  here  exactly. 
At  page  320,  speaking  of  St.  Paul,  you  say,  "  Reflect  for  a 
moment  on  the  dreadful  look  of  a  little  mean  figure,  eager  and 
inspired,  of  St.  Paul  striking  Elymas  blind,  or  preaching  the 
living  God  to  the  Athenians." 

I  doubt  the  fact  of  a  figure  with  a  mean  expression  being 
found  in  nature  in  combination  with  a  powerful  and  inspired 
mind  in  the  moral  and  intellectual  departments.  The  spine  may 
be  crooked,  and  the  limbs  ungainly  through  disease,  but  light  up 
such  a  frame  by  intense  moral  and  intellectual  energy,  and  it 
will  become  lustrous  with  radiant  mind.  .... 


45  6 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


At  p.  T.30,  I  like  your  description  of  Wellington.  There  is 
a  great  manhood  if  not  a  dash  of  genius  in  the  honest,  sturdy 
old  Duke.  He  fears  nothing ;  and  goes  to  the  point  with  the 
confidence  that  right  and  reason  can  stand  their  own  ground, 
and  need  no  flummery  to  support  them. 

Excuse  these  crude  and  disjointed  remarks.  I  could  write  a 
volume  on  your  lectures,  so  rich  are  they  in  suggestive  power. 
They  are  full  of  poetry  and  genius,  and  go  thundering  on  with 

the  might  of  a  massive  brain  kindled  by  its  noble  subject  

I  remain,  with  every  expression  of  great  esteem, 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

Geo.  Combe. 

To  Eastlake. 

My  DEAR  EASTLAKE,  London,  14th  November,  1844. 

How  could  you  suffer  Eu  bens'  '  Brazen  Serpent '  to  be 
revived  ?  It  was  one  of  his  finest  Italian  pictures,  warm  from 
Venetian  tone,  and  all  the  glazing  is  gone ! 

Yours  truly, 

B.  E.  Haydon. 

From  Eastlake. 

My  DEAR  HAYDON,  7  Fitzmy  Square,  16th  November. 

Without  particularly  wishing  to  influence  your  judg- 
ment, or  to  defend  my  own,  I  think  it  may  not  be  uninteresting 
to  you  to  know  what  one  of  the  best  living  authorities  says 
respecting  picture  cleaning. 

Professor  Schlesinger  (restorer  of  the  Eoyal  and  Public 
Pictures  at  Berlin)  unexpectedly  called  on  me  this  morning. 
Finding  he  had  been  to  the  National  Gallery,  I  was  anxious  to 
have  his  opinion  of  the  '  Brazen  Serpent,'  which  he  saw  in  its 
uncleaned  state  (without  knowing  that  anything  was  to  be  done 
to  it)  some  months  since. 

He  said  it  was  one  of  Eubens'  unglazed  pictures  in  perfect 
preservation,  and  an  interesting  specimen  as  showing  how  far 
the  master  carried  his  work  before  glazing. 

I  reminded  him  of  its  previous  state,  and  asked  him  (by  way 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


457 


of  experiment)  whether  he  did  not  think  it  advisable  in  some 
cases  to  leave  the  dirt  on  pictures,  as  it  often  served  to  harmo- 
nise them.  He  replied,  "  In  that  case  all  old  pictures  would 
be  alike.  We  have  no  right  to  attempt  to  alter  what  the 
master  left  fine.  Dirt  should  always  be  removed  where 
possible.  In  some  cases  this  is  a  hazardous  experiment,  but 
never  so  with  Kubens'  pictures,  for  I  would  defy  any  picture- 
cleaner  living  to  start  Kubens'  glazing  without  tearing  the 
surface  to  pieces.  In  this  picture  the  purity  is  uniform,  and 
the  last  sharp  touches  of  the  brush  everywhere  visible." 

Yours  truly, 

C.  L.  Eastlake. 

To  Eastlake. 

The  picture  was  glazed,  and  now  it  is 

Ever  yours, 

J3.  K  Haydon. 

To  John  Forster,  Esq.* 

My  DEAR  Mr.  FORSTER,  London,  2nd  December,  1814. 

Let  us  swear  eternal  friendship— with  more  sincerity 
than  Canning's  Germans — I  offer  you  my  thanks. 

There  is  no  inconsistency  in  my  urging  the  youth  to  stay  in 
England  on  one  page,  and  on  another  explaining  the  good  I 
derived  from  visiting  the  Louvre.  In  the  Louvre  the  works 
were  concentrated.  One  journey  accomplished  what  took  years 
before.  The  bad  and  lazy  habits  of  lounging  travel  were  never 
indulged.  A  man  went  and  saw,  studied  and  settled,  and  came 
back  and  got  to  work.  But  there  was  nothing  in  the  Louvre 
equal  to  the  Cartoons  and  Elgin  Marbles ;  and  therefore  the 
first  doctrine  remains  unimpeached,  though  good  accrued  by 
seeing  so  many  opposite  styles  united,  and  their  relative  value 
was  more  easily  estimated.  Yet  I  was  not  opposing  all  foreign 
travel,  but  only  such  foreign  visits  as  took  years,  and  engen- 
dered habits  which  did  more  harm  than  the  remainder  of  a 
life  could  disentangle,  when  the  same  good  could  have  been 
attained  without  this  evil. 

*  On  readiug  a  criticism  upon  one  of  his  '  Lectures,'  by  Mr.  Forster. — Ed. 


My  dear  Eastlake, 
Facts  are  facts. 

not. 


453 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


I  hope  you  will  come  and  dine  with  us  some  day  on  such 
fare  as  fish,  flesh,  and  humble  port  and  sherry;  such  as  used  to 
entertain  Sir  Walter,  Wordsworth,  Keats,  Lamb,  Hazlitt,  and 
other  departed  Immortals. 

I  am,  dear  Sir,  truly  yours, 

13.  R.  Haydon. 

From  the  Earl  of  Westmoreland 

My  DEAR  Mr.  HaYDON,  Berlin,  23rd  January,  1S45. 

I  have  anticipated  your  wishes  as  to  the  Emperor  of 
Russia,  for  at  the  Prince  of  Prussia's  recommendation  I  have 
requested  General  Rauch,  a  great  favourite  Avith  the  Emperor, 
aud  who  went  last  night  to  St.  Petersburg,  to  mention  the 
picture — which  I  showed  him,  and  which  he  much  admired — 
to  the  Emperor.  I  shall  hear  from  him  in  a  few  weeks  when 
he  decides. 

Believe  me,  very  truly  yours, 

Westmoreland. 

To  Mr.  Huxley  on  his  Cartoons. 

DEAR  SlR,  London,  12th  March,  1845. 

I  assure  you,  sincerely,  I  have  never  been  more  affected 
by  any  works  since  the  Elgin  Marbles  than  by  your  Correggio 
cartoons. 

I  hope  they  will  be  secured  for  the  nation,  for  in  conjunc- 
tion with  Raphael's  Cartoons  and  the  Elgin  Marbles,  they 
would  afford  examples  of  excellence  no  other  country  could 
equal. 

1  cannot  say  more  if  I  was  to  write  a  dozen  pages. 

Relieve  me,  &c, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

To  Henry  Hallam. 

SlR,  London,  5th  May,  1845. 

I  beg  leave,  without  the  honour  of  a  personal  intro- 
duction, to  express  my  entire  pleasure  at  your  letters  in  the 
last  Report  of  the  Royal  Commission,  and  to  assure  you  that  if 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


459 


the  Commission  confines  the  artists  to  Eng'ish  subjects  alone, 
the  whole  thing  will  end  in  a  Horse  Armoury  at  the  Tower. 

The  designs  I  made  for  the  Old  Houses,  and  which  I  have 
laid  before  every  minister  for  thirty  years,  I  have  begun  on 
my  own  responsibility.  They  are  on  the  principles  you 
advocate  ;  and  I  shall  be  proud  to  show  you  the  one  I  have  now 
in  hand  as  illustrating  '  The  Injustice  of  Democracy  '  as  part 
of  the  series  to  illustrate  the  best  form  of  Government  to 
regulate  the  species — Man. 

I  take  the  liberty  of  saying  I  am  opposed  in  toto  to  the 
present  plan  of  adorning  the  xSew  Houses,  which  seems  to  be 
mere  functional  embellishment  for  functional,  portions.  Pray 
forgive  me,  but  your  letters  express  my  sentiments  with  more 
power,  more  force,  more  knowledge. 

I  am,  Sir,  your  obedient  servant, 

B.  11.  Haydon. 


From  Henry  Hallam. 

SlB,  24  Wit  on  Crescent,  14th  May. 

I  ought  to  have  answered  your  note  of  the  5th  sooner, 
but  have  been  unable  to  fix  a  day  when  I  could  with  con- 
venience call  on  you.  If  I  do  not  hear  to  the  contrary,  I  will 
pay  you  a  visit  to-morrow  at  1  p.m. 

The  objects  contemplated  in  the  decoration  of  the  New 
Houses  of  Parliament  are  so  different,  that  they  must  be  ex- 
pected to  clash  with  each  other. 

The  promotion  of  the  highest  style  of  Art  is  one  thing,  the 
commemoration  of  important  events  or  persons  is  another.  The 
latter  is  likely  to  predominate. 

I  am,  Sir,  your  most,  &c., 

Henry  Hallam. 

To  Henry  Hallam. 

Sill,  London,  14th  May. 

I  shall  be  honoured  by  the  visit  of  so  distinguished  a 

man. 

1  admit  the  promotion  of  High  Art  is  one  thing,  and  the  com- 


460  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

memoration  of  events  and  persons  another;  but  I  maintain 
that  the  commemoration  of  events  and  persons  ought  to  be 
conveyed  through  High  Art,  all  three  being  made  subservient 
to  the  illustration  of  a  political,  religious,  or  moral  object. 
That  is  my  view. 

I  am,  Sir,  &c, 

B.  R.  IIaydon. 


From  Serjeant  Tai.foubd. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Serjeants'  Inn,  20th  May,  1845. 

I  have  too  long  delayed  to  assure  you  how  deeply 
obliged  are  we  by  your  most  interesting  gift.  It  is  not,  how- 
ever, matter  of  a  day.  The  idea  embodied  in  your  portrait  of 
Wordsworth  is  really  one  which  enriches  life,  and  therefore  I 
regret  the  less  that  I  did  not  at  once  acknowledge  it.  You  justly 
call  it  a  "  1'roof  of  Wordsworth's  Head."  It  is  so ;  a  convincing 
and  enduring  proof  of  the  meditative  power  so  long  denied  or 
neglected  by  the  world,  but  now  admitted  with  an  intensity  of 
appreciation  which  has  endowed  the  living  poet,  not  with  popu- 
larity, or  reputation,  or  fashion,  but  with  that  fame  which 
usually  belongs  only  to  a  man  when  he  is  deaf  to  its  music. 

I  did  not  think  there  was  anything  the  least  indiscreet  in 
your  expression  of  feeling  as  to  Wordsworth's  visit  to  the 
palace.  I  quite  understand  the  feeling ;  but  I  own  I  rather 
incline  to  look  on  the  incident  in  the  aspect  which  these 
Courtly  honours  wear  as  the  "  outward  and  visible  signs  "  of  the 
late  appreciation  which  genius  has  wrought  out  for  itself. 

As  Uazlitt  dwells  on  all  the  external  glories  and  pomp3 
of  his  great  idol's  empire,  I  am  reconciled  to  Wordsworth 
receiving  these  honours  by  considering  how  delightful  it  is 
that  he  shall  have  compelled  the  Court  to  pay  them. 

Believe  me,  ever  truly  yours, 

T.  N.  Talfourd. 


To  John  Fobster. 

M,r  »v„ .  London,  14  Burwood  Place, 

Y  DEAR  STB,  9th  October,  1815. 

My  seven  first  Lectures  will  be  published  on  the  17th 
Longmans  will  send  you  a  copy.    I  trust  you  will  honour  me 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


by  one  of  your  first-rate  criticisms.  I  am  delighted  at  your 
remarks  on  Miss  Barrett,  and  so  was  she.  Your  criticisms 
really  are  treasures. 

I  am,  dear  Sir,  truly  yours, 

B.  B.  Haydon. 

Extracts  from  a  Letter  by  Miss  Barrett. 

....  I  had  felt  some  apprehension  from  the  thunders 
in  that  quarter.  The  delay  had  seemed  to  me  ominous  ;  and 
although  a  criticism  will  not  kill  a  book  which  is  not  right 
mortal,  and  although  we  authors  may  say  so  over  and  over  to 
ourselves,  yet  before  such  a  critic  as  Mr.  Forster,  of  the 
'  Examiner,'  we  must  not  affect  an  impossible  indifference.  He 
is  the  ablest  of  English  critics,  and  for  his  kindness  to  my 
little  volumes  I  am  grateful. 

Ever  most  faithfully  yours, 

Elizabeth  Barrett. 

From  Mr.  Cobden. 

My  DEAR  SlR,  Manchester,  4th  February,  1846. 

Thank  you  for  your  friendly  note.  There  is  nothing 
more  gratifying  than  to  find  one's  public  conduct  approved  by 
those  who  are  living  beyond  the  eddy  of  that  vortex  of  agita- 
tion into  which  I  was  plunged  seven  years  ago,  and  from  which 
I  hope  to  escape  ere  the  close  of  the  present  year.  Most  con- 
fidently do  I  trust  that  the  closing  prediction  of  your  note  will 
be  verified,  and  that  I  shall  live  to  see  my  opponents  convinced 
that  my  labours  have  been  for  their  benefit. 

Believe,  me,  &c, 

Richard  Cobden. 

From  Francis  Jeffrey. 

My  DEAR  HAYDON,  Wednesday,  3rd  March,  1843. 

I  return  your  "  Proof,"  *  though  I  am  rather  sorry  to 
part  with  it,  and  think  it  very  interesting. 

*  Proof  of  the  head  of  Wordsworth. 


462 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


The  fair  creature  you  sat  by  was  Mrs.  Forrest,  the  wife  of 
the  moustached  American  who  was  at  the  other  table.  They 
leave  this  neighbourhood,  Tarn  sorry  to  say,  to-morrow,  and  I 
have  little  chance  of  looking  on  her  loveliness  any  more  in  this 
world.  I  wish  you  could  have  made  a  picture  and  a  proof  of 
her ! 

Let  us  see  you  again  some  evening  before  you  go. 

Ever  yours, 

F.  Jeffrey. 

From  Sir  Rodekick  Murchisos. 

Sir  Roderick  Murchison  presents  his  compliments  to 
Mr.  Haydon,  and,  in  reply  to  his  note  of  yesterday,  begs  to  say 
that  he  has  not  a  particular  recollection  of  the  arrangement  of 
the  granite  blocks  in  Rickley  Yale,  near  Plymouth,  but  he 
believes  that  they  resemble,  more  or  less,  those  which  he  has 
seen  at  numerous  points  in  and  around  Dartmoor,  the  great 
centre  of  the  granite  of  that  region.  Sir  Roderick  is  by  no 
means  prepared  to  deny  that  some  of  these  blocks  may  have 
been  affected  by  the  agency  of  water  expanded  into  ice  at  a 
former  period  when  a  glacial  sea  may  have  covered  large  por- 
tions of  the  island  ;  but  he  believes  that  both  in  Devonshire  and 
in  Cornwall  many  of  the  chaotic  appearances  of  the  surface  of 
the  granite  (in  the  tors  of  Cornwall  certainly)  are  due  chiefly 
to  the  peculiar  disintegration  of  the  rock,  or  rather  of  its  feld- 
spar, as  explained  by  Dr.  M'Culloch  in  the  'Geological  Trans- 
actions (Old  Series),  and  by  other  writers. 

'Some  of  the  appearances  may  also  be  due  to  vibratory  action 
attendant  upon  the  elevation  of  the  land.  The  cases  in  Dale- 
carlia  of  chaotic  assemblages  of  stratified  hard  sandstone  in  situ, 
the  blocks  of  which  have  preserved  their  angles  intact,  cannot 
be  explained  by  disintegration. 

From  George  Combe. 

My  DEAR  Sm,  Edinburgh,  9th  March,  1846. 

In  your  admirable  lecture  on  Friday  evening  you  de- 
molished Alison  and  Jeffrey  out  and  out. 

I  agreed  with  all  your  own  theory  of  beauty,  and  thought  it 
excellent,  except  on  one  point :  that  woman  is  not  the  standard 
of  all  beauty  in  form. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


463 


My  notions,  published  in  my  '  System  and  Letters  on  the 
Fine  Arts,'  are  these,  viz.  :— 

The  organ  of  form  is  agreeably  affected  by  some  forms,  and 
disagreeably  by  others,  from  the  adaptation  of  the  form  to  the 
organization.  We  call  the  forms  which  produce  the  agreeable 
impressions,  beautiful ;  and  the  opposite,  ugly.  This  applies 
to  all  forms.  The  forms  of  a  woman  and  of  a  column  each 
makes  its  own  impression  independently.  Your  theory  is  really 
one  of  association ;  as  much  nearly  as  Alison's  or  Jeffrey's : 
for  you  admit  only  one  set  of  beautiful  forms  (woman's),  and 
all  others  are  beautiful  in  so  far  as  they  resemble  it :  but 
resemblance  is  an  idea  of  association. 

2ndly.  Colours  are  beautiful  from  their  adaptation  to  the 
organ  of  colour ;  or  ugly  when  they  transgress  the  laws  of  the 
agreeable  relations  of  coloured  objects  to  the  organs. 

3rdly.  Certain  proportions  are  beautiful  from  their  adapta- 
tion to  the  organ  of  size,  and  ugly  when  they  offend  it. 

In  short,  I  regard  every  organ  as  standing  in  a  definite  rela- 
tion to  its  own  objects.  It  is  agreeably  impressed  by  some, 
and  we  call  them  beautiful ;  disagreeably,  and  we  call  them 
ugly- 

I  have  no  doubt  that  the  charge  of  bayonets,  which  you  so 
happily  introduced,  appeared  very  beautiful  to  destrudiveness  ! 

Excuse  me  for  making  these  remarks ;  but  I  know  that  you 
prize  an  honest  opinion,  and  therefore  I  offer  them. 

I  remain,  my  dear  Sir,  &c, 

George  Combe. 

Extracts  from  Letters  to  Ms  Wife. 

Edinburgh,  13th  March,  1846. 

Yesterday  I  dined  with  old  Mr.  Cadell,  the  former  part- 
ner with  Constable,  sole  proprietor  of  the  Waverley  novels,  and 
the  possessor  of  all  the  manuscripts.  He  lives  some  eight  miles 
out  of  Edinburgh.  He  has  paid  by  the  sale  of  the  novels  the 
greater  portion  of  Sir  Walter's  debts,  and  he  says  there  will  bo 
twenty  shillings  in  the  pound  for  everybody.  Abbotsford  is 
secured ;  and  this  old  hero,  Cadell,  has  made  his  own  fortune 
out  of  the  novels  already.  He  has  bought  a  splendid  man- 
sion, with  six  hundred  acres  of  land,  has  a  second  wife,  eight 
daughters,  but  no  son.    Six  of  the  daughters  are  very  pretty, 


4r'4 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


blonde  to  perfection,  fair  silky  hair,  the  finest  complexions,  and 
dark-blue  eyes.  Watson  Gordon,  the  portrait-painter,  was 
there,  an  old  friend  of  Wilkie's,  and  a  Mr.  Christie.  After 
dinner  out  came  the  manuscripts  of  Waverley,  and  all  the 
novels ;  and  more  beautiful  manuscript  I  never  saw.  Shake- 
speare is  said  to  have  been  the  same ;  without  a  blot  or  a  cor- 
rection. Pages  of  little  writing,  line  after  line,  and  so  close 
that  three  of  Sir  Walter's  pages  made  sixteen  pages  of  printing. 
He  wrote  three  pages  a  day,  and  hardly  ever  worked  after 
1  p.m.  How  Walter  Scott  could  answer  to  his  conscience  for 
putting  his  hand  to  his  heart  and  declaring  to  George  IV. 
that  he  was  not  the  author  of  '  Waverley '  is  to  me  painful. 
From  this  sight  of  his  manuscripts  I  will  alter  my  style 
for  the  printer.  Would  you  believe  it,  these  invaluable 
manuscripts  are  in  no  way  secured  from  fire.  I  startled 
Cadell  by  saying:  "Why  don't  you  secure  these  papers  in  a 
fire-proof  box  ?  "  He  assured  me  there  was  no  danger.  "  But," 
I  said,  "  you  don't  leave  your  title-deeds  to  such  risks.  Take 
my  advice,  and  get  a  box  made  and  fitted  with  castors,  so 
that  it  can  be  rolled  out  of  the  house  in  a  few  minutes." 
They  all  agreed  it  ought  to  be  done,  and  I  have  little  doubt 
it  will  be.  It  is  astonishing  how  little  precaution  people  take 
against  fire. 

Watson  Gordon  took  me  afterwards  to  Jeffrey's  soiree.  Gor- 
don himself,  the  picture  of  a  portrait  fag,  went  home.  Up  I 
went,  and  found  Jeffrey's  rooms  stuffed  with  blues  and  no 
blues,  Scotch  beauties  and  Scotch  authors,  and  Jeffrey  himself 
looking  very  old,  feeble,  and  the  piercing  expression  of  his  face 
softening  evidently  with  a  submissive  quiescence,  which  he 
seemed  to  repose  on  without  a  struggle.  A  lady,  to  whom 
I  had  been  presented  after  one  of  my  lectures,  I  took  in  to 
supper.  She  was  very  travelled  and  very  talented.  Jeffrey 
sat  next  to  her,  and  a  very  handsome  lady  sat  on  my  other 
side.  I  fear  beauty  carried  the  day  with  me ;  but  I  re- 
turned to  my  duty,  and  after  the  usual  intellectual  talk 
of  a  soiree,  I  contrived  to  escape  without  eating  supper, 
and  got  home  by  midnight.  J  effrey  said :  "  Haydon,  you 
look  fat  and  well,  the  sure  signs  of  prosperity."  Ah  ! 
thought  I,  if  you  knew  the  trouble  I  have  to  pay  my  bills 
you  would  not  say  that.  But«such  are  the  blessings  of  "ap- 
pearances." 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


465 


To  Mr.  Fobster. 

MY  DEAR  Mr.  FORSTER,  London,  23rd  April,  1816. 

I  beg  to  return  you  my  sincere  thanks  for  your  masterly 
notice  of  my  works.  All  the  press  has  burst  out  with  praise, 
except  that  lumbering  cargo  of  weekly  common-place  and 
trimming,  the  .  .  .  .  ;  and  that  fourpenny  dose  of  Germanism, 
mysticism,  aphorism,  criticism,  galvanism,  and  mesmerism, 
the  ...  . 

Yours,  &c, 

B.  R.  Haydox. 

From  Jos.  Gwilt. 

DEAR  HaYDOX,  20  Abingdon  Street,  1st  May,  1846. 

There  is  not  any  book  that  will  give  you  any  insight  in 
early  Anglo-Saxon  architecture,  especially  so  early  as  the  ninth 
century.  To  be  near  the  mark,  you  may  use  the  arches, 
columns,  and  forms  of  churches  at  Stukeley,  in  Buckingham- 
shire ;  Barfreston,  in  Kent ;  and  Avington,  in  Berkshire.  Ex- 
amples at  Waltham  Abbey :  the  transept  arches  at  Southwell, 
Notts ;  the  nave  of  the  Abbey  Church  of  St.  Alban's,  Neots 
nave  of  Christchurch,  Oxon ;  castles  of  Roman  or  Saxon  founda- 
tion ;  Richborough,  Kent ;  Castletown,  in  Derby ;  Porchester, 
in  Hampshire  ;  Pevensey,  in  Sussex  ;  Castor,  Norfolk ;  Burgh, 
Suffolk;  Corfe,  Dorchester;  Exeter  Castle  Gateway;  Dover, 
&c,  &c. 

Yours  very  truly, 

JOS.  GWiLT. 

To  his  Son  Frederic,  H.M.S. '  Vernon.' 

My  DEAR  FRED,  London,  4th  May,  184G* 

I  am  delighted  with  your  account  of  your  battle  and 
fights.  Your  description  is  capital,  and  very  picturesque. 
The  roar  of  the  great  ship  guns,  the  splitting  of  the  shells,  the 
rush  of  the  Congreve  rockets,  and  the  cloud  of  sulphury  flame 
they  leave  behind  them,  must  have  been  very  fine.  But  you 
will  get  no  credit  with  the  Government;  for  the  Duke  was 
furious  at  Sir  Gore  Ouseley  intercepting  the  troops  for  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope,  and  sending  them  to  Monte  Video.  Cap- 

*  This  was  the  last  letter  I  ever  received  from  hirn,  except  the  one  left  on  his 
table  for  me. 


466 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


tain  Hope  must  be  a  fine  fellow.  I  almosf  wish  you  were  in 
his  ship.  I  wish  I  had  gone  to  sea  myself  as  a  boy.  I  might 
have  had  my  head  knocked  off  the  first  week,  and  I  might  not. 
In  any  case  I  could  hardly  be  worse  off  than  I  am  now,  after 
forty-two  years'  devotion  to  the  Art  of  my  country.  But,  my 
dear  boy,  you  put  fresh  blood  into  my  heart  when  I  read  your 
account  of  all  your  fights  with  these  rascals.  The  poncho 
of  the  South  American  Gen'  ral  that  you  captured  in  his  tent 
is  a  trophy.  Keep  it  and  bring  it  home,  and  his  dress  boots 
too.  My  dear  Fred,  I  will  try  what  I  can  do  for  you  at  the 
Admiralty  ;  but  when  you  come  to  make  suggestions  to  officials 
on  improving  the  arms  and  armaments  of  our  ships  and  crews, 
you  will  find  it  a  very  different  matter  to  asking  a  favour  such 
as  your  removal  from  one  ship  to  another,  or  your  promotion. 
The  question  that  you  bring  up  is  a  very  great  one,  involving 
great  changes  in  construction,  and  great  expense,  and  ever 
since  the  Keform  Bill  "  economy  "  is  the  order  of  the  day.* 

*  In  the  latter  pnrt  of  1845,  while  serving  on  the  South  American  Slntion,  I 
contrived  to  g' t  lent  to  tho  squadron  for  some  four  months'  active  service  iu  the 
River  Plate  Expedition,  commanded  by  the  late  i>ir  Charles  Hotham,  K.C.B., 
with  the  present  Admiral  Sir  James  Hope,  K.C.B.,  second  in  command.  The 
squadron  had  to  force  the  passage  of  the  River  Parana,  and  after  one  pitched 
battle-  at  Obligado,  and  repeated  daily  engagements,  at  length  opened  the  river 
to  Corrientc,  to  rind  it  blocked  up  ae.aiu  on  return,  when  a  second  severe 
action  at  San  Lorenzo  closed  the  expedition.  From  the  great  splits  of  imn  which 
only  18-lb.  shot  tore  out  of  the  sides  of  the  iron  steamers,  and  from  the  dilli  •ultv 
we'had  in  killing  the  enemy  off  the  tops  of  the  cliffs,  by  reason  of  the  short  range 
of  i  ur  musk,  ts,  I  suggested  to  my  father  if  we  had  rifles  we  should  do  bi  tter,  and 
if  the  iron  steamers  sent  out  were  backed  with  wood,  and  cased  with  stouter  iron, 
they  would  be  impenetrable.  I  think  for  this  I  may  fairly  claim  priority  over  the 
latJ  French  Emperor  for  the  ideaof  an  iron-clad  ship  for  lighting  purposes.  When 
I  returned  to  England  in  1847-8,  I  mentioned  the  suhj.  ct  to  the  late  Sir  William 
Faii-bairn  F  R.S.,  who  had  constructed  the  small  iron  steamers  we  iiad  in  the  ex- 
pedition, and  he  was  much  interested.  1  also  tried  the  Admiralty,  but  I  could  get 
no  one  to  listen  to  me  there  further  than  by  an  otfic'al  letter  to  know  if  I  wished 
"  to  be  appointed  on  Foreign  Service."  It  is  only  fair,  however,  to  add  that  what 
first  gave  form  and  substance  to  the  vague  ideas  floating  in  my  mind  was  seeing 
the  French  Admiral,  before  going  into  action,  stop  his  chain  cables  up  and  down 
the  exposed  sides  of  all  his  wooden  ships — captured  prizes — of  light  si-antling. 
This,  and  the  fractures  of  our  small  iron  steamers  when  hit,  sugge  ted  to  me  that 
if  a  stout  combination  of  layers  of  wood  and  iron  were  made  in  the  building,  a 
sliip  so  c  instructed  would  be  impenetrable  to  ritle  and  cannon  shot.  I  told  Sir 
Charles  Hotham  of  it  one  middle  watch,  when  the  mosquitoes  would  not  let  him 
sleep,  and  he  commended  the  idea  highly,  and  told  me  to  "  work  it  out "  But  to 
work  out  ideas  takes  tine,  and  money,  and  I  had  neither  to  spare.  But  I  have 
lived  to  see  the  idea  fully  developed  by  others  better  qualified,  and  that  is  some 
consolation,  although  they  have  not  yet  succeeded  in  making  their  ironcl  ids 
"  handy,"  an  indi  p  usable  requisite  which  I  ventured  to  suggest  to  the  Ad- 
miralty, in  a  letter  to  the  '  Times'  some  twelve  years  since;  nor,  in  preventing 
their  decay  from  the  inside,  which  thev  never  will  do  until  thev  coat  their  iron 
with  red  lead  in  the  first  instance,  i.e.  while  tho  bloom  is  on  it.  To  cover  it  with 
red  lead  after  decay  has  Set  in,  is  like  putting  pepper  on  a  bad  egg.— Ed. 


B.  R.  HA  YD  ON. 


467 


I  quite  agree  with  you,  and  I  quite  understand  and  see  the 
folly  of  giving  men  carbines  that,  as  you  say,  won't  kill  a  man 
at  fifty  paces,  instead  of  a  rifle  that  will  kill  a  man  at  five 
hundred  and  more.  All  the  men  ought  to  have  rifles  for  such 
work  as  you  have  to  do.  The  marines  certainly.  I  will  show 
your  letter  at  the  Admiralty :  meantime  make  the  best  of  what 
you  have  got. 

And  what  you  tell  me  about  the  iron  steamers  is  most 
interesting.  The  next  time  I  go  to  Manchester  I  will  tell 
Fairbairn,  the  engineer.  But  I  don't  like  your  idea  of  covering 
wooden  ships  with  iron,  fighting  in  perfect  security  of  your  own 
lives  against  poor  wretches  who  have  no  security  of  the  kind 
for  their  protection.  It  seems  to  me  unfair,  un-English,  and 
unmanly.  But,  after  all,  it  is  the  duty  of  a  commander  to  save 
the  lives  of  his  own  men,  and  to  destroy  the  enemy  by  every 
means  in  his  power :  and  this  is  only  one  of  them.  Your 
account  of  the  effect  of  the  Congreve  rockets  is  curious.  They 
were  first  used,  I  think,  at  Waterloo,  and  exactly  the  same  sort  of 
panic  was  produced.  After  three  rockets  had  been  dropped  into 
them,  a  whole  French  regiment  broke  and  ran.  I  read  of  the 
murder  of  that  poor  young  officer  *  and  his  boat's  crew.  What 
a  horrible  thing !  Those  South  American  fiends  seem  to  have 
no  generosity  or  honour,  and  no  feeling  for  life ;  but  after  what 
you  tell  me  of  the  little  children  at  the  Saladeros  pulling  out 
the  palpitating  hearts  of  the  dying  bullocks,  I  am  not  sur- 
prised at  it.  Take  care  that  you  don't  fall  into  their  bloody 
hands.  God  protect  you,  my  dear  boy,  and  bring  you  home  in 
honour  to 

Your  affectionate  father, 

B.  R.  Haydon. 

P.S. — I  enclose  you  two  sketches — one  of  my  '  Nero,'  and  of 
'  Trial  by  Jury  '  before  Alfred.  The  '  Aristides  '  you  remember. 
We  are  all  fairly  well.  Your  dear  mother  will  write  next 
mail. 

*  Mr.  Wavdlaw.  His  boat  grounded  off  the  enemy's  coast,  near  Buenos  Ayres. 
The  Guaohof  rode  into  the  water,  lassoed  tlie  crew  out  one  by  one,  and  dragging 
them  to  a  hut,  butchered  them  like  sreep,  and  then  cut  them  up  as  the  American 
Consul  described  it,  "into  4-lb.  pieces." — Ed. 


468 


CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


From  Count  D'Orsat. 

My  DEAR  HAYDON,  5th  May,  1846. 

I  am  very  proud  of  your  approbation.  I  was  tired  to 
see  the  Duke  dressed  as  a  corporal  or  as  a  policeman  (as 
Pickersgill  painted  him),  therefore  I  did  choose  the  dress  you 
approve,  as  being  very  elegant  and  exact,  and  suited  for  what  I 
intended.  As  to  the  hands,  I  did  prefer  to  think  of  his  than 
Vandyke's,  as  the  characteristic  of  his  hands  are  very  bony  ;  so 
much  so  that  many  of  his  friends  told  me  they  could  recog- 
nise his  hands  if  the  top  of  the  picture  was  hidden. 

I  must  speak  to  you  of  your  picture.  I  went  to  the  private 
view  and  admired  exceedingly  '  Aristides.'  It  is  Kaffaelesque, 
and  your  sketch  of  the  '  French  Revolution '  digne  de  Michel 
Angelo.    This  is  my  candid  opinion. 

I  ought  to  have  thanked  you  sooner  for  having  sent  me  a 
ticket,  but  the  fact  is  that,  between  my  affairs  and  those  of 
others,  my  artistic  pursuits,  and  hundreds  of  letters  to  answer,  I 
am  always  behindhand  with  everything.    Au  revoir  soon. 

Believe  me  yours  faithfully, 

Count  D'Orsay. 

From  Samuel  Prout. 

M\'  DEAR  IIaYDON,  Denmark  Hill,  8th  June,  1846. 

I  had  not  unpacked  your  parcel  when  I  last  wrote,  or 
should  have  thanked  you  sooner  for  a  perfect  resemhlance.  The 
profile  almost  prophesies  great  things  ;  and  as  nature  has  given 
you  a  head  fitted  for  a  pedestal,  I  trust  it  will  be  inscribed 
with  an  immortal  name. 

Why  are  you  not,  as  Jackson  used  to  say  you  would  be, 
P.R.A.  ? 

*  You  may  not  aspire  to  such  a  distinction,  but  pray  keep  on 
on  the  good  old  way.  Who  can  forget  the  holy  and  lovely 
humility  of  the  '  Young  Penitent,'  bending  with  her  mother 
before  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  as  he  was  approaching  Jeru- 
salem ?*  Let  us  see  more  and  more  of  that  deeply  felt  variety 
of  expression,  &c,  which  delighted  and  attracted  crowds  to  see 

•  An  allusion  to  Haydon's  picture  of  the  1  Entry  into  Ji  rusalem  '—Ed. 


B.  R.  HAYDON. 


469 


your  pictures.  I  refer  particularly  to  the  'Entry  into  Jeru- 
salem,' the  4  Judgment  of  Solomon,'  and  the  '  Raising  of 
Lazarus.'  They  gave  you  a  grand  distinction  among  artists, 
pledges  that  you  would  achieve  a  higher  eminence. 

When  I  see  your  increasing  glory  I  shall  claim  you  as  my 
oldest  friend,  and 

Believe  me,  dear  B.  R.  H.,  ever  most  truly, 

Samuel  Pkout. 


VOL-  I. 


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